


Madman

by WhereEaglesDare



Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, CPTSD - Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Cannibalism, Dark, Despair, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drunken Shenanigans, Dubious Consent, Ending C: The Third Way, F/M, Fear of Death, Graphic Description, Held Down, Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insanity, Jealousy, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, POV Third Person Limited, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Shit you probably saw coming from a mile away, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Trauma Bonding, Trevor Philips Being an Asshole, Unhealthy Relationships, Work In Progress, shaven-headed fruity leather-chap-wearing fucking assholes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 48
Words: 167,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21669334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereEaglesDare/pseuds/WhereEaglesDare
Summary: (Takes place Post-Game, ending C)Trevor Philips has the world at his fingertips but he's still not happy. He's lonely, tortured and a complete trainwreck. When he stumbles upon a woman on her way to work one morning and impulsively kidnaps her, things begin to change for him in a big way.(Trevor will be much more psychotic and dominant than before. Expect mucho brutality and smut. Please read tags for trigger warnings.)
Relationships: Trevor Philips & Original Female Character(s), Trevor Philips/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 412
Kudos: 253





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the second fanfiction I've ever attempted and it was inspired by a quasi nightmare that I had a few years back. One of those dreams where you wake up with your heart pounding and thinking, "What the hell was THAT?" Just thought it might be fun to explore this darkness a little more...and I have a feeling this could get as dark as midnight in a well. So, yeah, consider yourself warned.
> 
> Anyway, if you see any mistakes or inconsistencies or just wanna say 'hi' I'd appreciate any comments you feel like giving. Criticism is also really helpful so don't be shy, mmkay?

Livia Wallace was late for work. She should've clocked in at the office at nine and it was fifteen minutes past already. She knew her boss was going to chew her out and the thought of having to look at Ken Pruitt's greasy, pockmarked face or at the beer belly straining at the buttons of his shirt as the smell of the Juicy Fruit he constantly chewed invaded her nostrils was almost too much to bear. She didn't want to deal with that insufferable jackass any more than was absolutely necessary. Not today, not ever.

Ken had it in for her anyway. Ever since he'd gotten drunk at the office Christmas party and cornered her by the bathrooms over a month ago, he'd been waiting for an opportunity to stick the knife in and twist. He'd ambushed her in the hallway, blocking both sides with his bloated toad body, and slurred some cheesy pickup line at her. She couldn't remember exactly what he had said to her but she'd shown him her wedding ring, grimly reminding him yet again that she was married and therefore totally uninterested. Rather than be put off, however, he'd laughed drunkenly at this and then proceeded to attempt to grope her anyway. Thankfully, she'd seen it coming and stopped him before he could touch her with a single digit. She'd slapped that wad of sickly yellow gum out of his mouth and told him to keep his goddamned hands off of her if he wanted to keep them attached. The look of embarrassment and shock on his face had almost been worth the whole encounter.

She'd thought that maybe he would forget about it, considering how wasted he'd been at the time, but there'd been no such luck. Ever since that night he'd been itching for a reason to bring the hammer down on her as payback for that little love tap across the jowls. She could imagine the smile that would twist those thin, prissy lips of his and it made her want to puke. She briefly entertained the idea of quitting altogether and looking for something better. There had to be something, _anything_ , better than working there. Something more lucrative but less stressful that she wouldn't dread seeing again almost every single morning.

 _Sure_ , she thought, scowling at the red light as if she could make the colors change by sheer force of will. _And that'll happen right after hell freezes over._

Sitting in her ten year old Landstalker, she watched the light change from red to green to yellow and then back to red again; never moving more than a foot or two the entire time. Fucking Los Santos traffic. Mostly the congestion of vehicles didn't bother her so much, after twenty years here she'd actually grown used to it, but Ken would cause as many problems for her as he possibly could. Self-important pricks like him always did.

She was only a mile away from work when she finally noticed the low fuel light on the dashboard blinking insistently. She groaned in frustration and slapped the steering wheel with one hand hard enough to hurt. Now she'd have to waste another ten minutes or so just gassing up. Why did this kind of crap only seem to happen when she was in a huge rush? 

Livia turned into a 24/7 less than two blocks away from the red light and pulled up to the nearest pump; parking right behind a battered, dirty red truck that had definitely seen better days. She grabbed her purse off of the seat next to her and hopped out, dashing for the door of the little building in her sensibly low black heels. Approaching the door, she stuck one hand out and quickly pulled it open, stepping inside. The bell overhead chimed as the pneumatic door swung shut behind her and then she noticed the Indian man behind the counter staring at her with huge brown eyes. For some reason he had his hands in the air high above his head as if he were...

Warning bells went off in her head and Livia spun around, meaning to dash back outside, but she was two seconds too late. A mercilessly hard hand clamped down on her arm just above her left elbow and she was rudely jerked backward, causing her to cry out in surprised fear.

"Hold it right there, sunshine," said a man's voice in her ear as the barrel of a gun pressed painfully into the small of her back. "Where do you think you're going, huh?" 

Even though she couldn't see his face she knew right away that he was dangerous. Not only because she'd interrupted his robbery of this shitty little convenience store, either...something about him just sounded terrifying in general. Like he might be smiling when he pulled the trigger and blew her guts out of the front of her yellow, imitation silk blouse.

Livia said the only thing that she could think of, "Please!"

The man holding her arm laughed at her, an angry, humorlessly-grating sound in her ear, and then he was hauling her back away from the door; away from safety and freedom. The man holding the gun on her let go of her arm only long enough to wrap a thickly muscled and tattooed forearm around her throat. Her back was pressed fully against the mystery man's much broader and more muscled frame and suddenly it was hard for her to breathe. She thought about dying here in this dirty little store and tears began to roll down the pallor of her face as she was forced around to face the clerk again. She reached up unthinkingly to grasp the hairy forearm choking her with hands that were shaking uncontrollably. She didn't try to pull away from him, she was only trying to relieve the pressure somewhat, but he squeezed her even tighter; cutting off most of her air until she was nearly gasping for every breath.

The man holding her shifted and now the gun was pointed directly at the terrified clerk's face rather than being pushed up against her spine. "Okay, yeah, no more fucking interruptions," he said, sounding breathless and excited. 

_He's enjoying this,_ she thought. _He's enjoying the hell out of it._

"Now, empty the register and, I swear to God, if I see your hand move for that silent alarm I'm gonna paint that wall behind you with your fucking brains!" he barked.

The clerk, whose name tag said Deepak, nodded and reached for the wire rack where the plastic bags hung from when the man with the gun suddenly shouted at him again, "Hurry up, motherfucker!"

Deepak nodded fervently and his hands shook so hard that he could barely grip the bag and pull it off the rack. He used the tip of one finger to hit a button on the register and it opened with a loud _ding!_ sound. He quickly grabbed up big handfuls of bills out of the drawer and stuffed them in the bag before handing it over.

"Good boy," the man choking her said, almost purring his words as he snatched the bag with the pinky and ring finger of his gun hand. "Look at you. I bet you got a gold star every day in school, didn't you? You were probably the teacher's pet." Then he shifted gears again, going from sweet to sour so quickly that Livia nearly pissed herself in terror. "Now get on the floor!" he shouted, jabbing at the air aggressively with the barrel of his gun pointed in the direction of the clerk's head. "Face down! Don't make me tell you twice!"

Showing an acute sense of self-preservation, Deepak dropped to his knees and then lay facedown on the floor; his hands laced behind his head. The gunman laughed again, a strangely discordant sound that had little sanity in it, and said, "Yeah, that's right, asshole. Now you stay down there until I'm gone or you'll have eaten your last fucking bowl of curry!"

"Please, just go!" the clerk begged, his voice heavily accented and muffled against the floor. "Take the money and go!"

"Don't mind if I do," the gunman chirped. Then, to Livia, "Come on, sugartits. We're outta here."

Suddenly he was forcing her toward the door and she began to struggle without thinking. She didn't want to go out there with him and if she'd been able to draw enough breath to speak, she would have pleaded with him to let her go. Not that it would've done any good in the end.

"Be still!" the gunman commanded. Now she felt him jam the barrel of his gun up against her back once again. "Just be still, goddamn it!"

He kicked open the door with one dirty, scuffed boot and brought her out into the early morning sunlight. Despite the gun at her back, Livia tried to twist and turn and escape his hold somehow but it was no use. The arm holding her was like an iron bar across her throat; impossible to move. She had no choice but to go wherever this lunatic wanted to take her.

The gunman quickly marched her across the parking lot and toward the dirty red truck parked at the gas pump in front of her SUV. Once they reached the door he shoved the gun in the waistband of his pants and reached down to pull it open. Livia felt the pressure on her throat loosen just a little and wheezed, "Let me go!"

"Shut the fuck up!" he growled in response to this; sounding very much like an angry dog as he shoved her into the passenger seat. Police sirens rose in the distance as traffic passed by on the street beside them and she felt hope spring up in her chest. She sat up as he rushed around the front of the truck and was just reaching for the door handle when he jumped in beside her.

As her fingers touched nothing she realized that there was no door handle and all hope in her died as the man stuck the key in the ignition and said, "Buckle up, darlin'. This is going to get bumpy."

The engine roared to life and then they were pulling out of the parking lot with a squeal of rubber on pavement. He narrowly avoided hitting a little white sports car and horns honked all around them as he bullied his way into the endless flow of cars before them.

They bounced up and down several times going over the median and then he was cutting across three lanes without warning, causing more horns to blare and people to scream obscenities in their direction. The sirens were growing closer and the man in the driver's seat piloted them into an alleyway strewn with garbage. A small, furry animal darted out from behind a dumpster and was flattened by the big wheels of the truck with a small thump.

"Squish!" he cried, laughing maniacally.

Turning to look at the rearview mirror and hoping to see the blue and red flashing lights of the LSPD rushing up behind them, Livia tried again to plead with him, "Please, let me out, mister."

"No can do," he said, accelerating and knocking over a metal trash bin with a hollow bang. "Gotta have a hostage in case those little piggies catch up and things get complicated. Maybe I'll let you out once we're clear of the city. How's that sound?"

Livia only began to cry in response and he let out a frustrated groan. "Fine," he said. "Have it your way. Off to those freaky fucks in the mountains you go, then."

She had no idea what he was talking about but she knew it wasn't good. She was probably going to die tonight. Her life was going to end all because she'd forgotten to gas up her stupid car after leaving work yesterday.


	2. Chapter 2

Livia sat in the passenger seat watching the last vestiges of Los Santos disappear into the distance and cried quietly to herself. They were on the highway now, heading north, and the police sirens were long gone. The man behind the wheel was speeding, dodging around traffic and laughing when other motorists honked angrily or flipped him off and shouted curses. She wasn't sure where he was taking her but somewhere with 'freaky fucks in the mountains' didn't sound appealing to her in the least.

He eventually turned on the radio, tuning down the dial until he found Channel X, and began to sing along with a few songs; his voice cracked and off-key. He seemed positively cheerful now that the threat of being caught was falling further and further behind them. She sat there next to him, clutching at her elbows and rocking back and forth in an effort to somehow comfort herself. She could sense him looking at her from time to time but she wouldn't look back at him. It seemed safer not to.

As they began to approach Paleto Bay and the base of Mount Chiliad, the man driving turned to her and said, "You're going to like your new home. Lots of nice old folks who just _love_ having guests for dinner."

He brayed laughter at this little inside joke and Livia sniffled a bit before finally finding the courage to speak again. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice low and trembling with fear. "Do you want money?" He laughed harder than ever and she almost looked over at him before catching herself. She waited until he had quieted down some and continued to speak to him as calmly as she possibly could, "You can take me to the nearest cash machine and I'll take out as much as I can. You can even have my jewelry if you want. Just let me go after, okay?"

He snorted his amusement at this and replied, "I don't want your fucking money. I _have_ money."

Livia was completely flabbergasted by this. She was so stunned that it took her several moments to find her voice once more, "W-why would you rob a gas station if you don't need the money?"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw his head turn as he looked over at her for a brief moment before turning back to face the road again. "Honestly? I was bored."

"You did that for _fun_?" 

"Oh yeah," he agreed, swerving around a silver Banshee with a big blue stripe down the center. "Why not? Beats the hell out of jerking off and contemplating the absurdity of existence all day. Or, you know, getting my face and body pumped full of plastic and desperately seeking attention from the rest of the mindless fucks wandering around this turd of a city."

Livia chewed her lower lip and thought to herself that this man, whoever he was, was way more unhinged than she'd initially believed. Who would do such a thing? Risk their life over no more than a couple hundred dollars just to kill time? What kind of fucked up psychopath would even think like that?

They rode for a while without speaking, the radio the only thing to break the silence as traffic thinned out and they turned onto a winding dirt road that led up Mount Chiliad. Dirt and rocks sprayed the undercarriage of the truck as they left the pavement behind and the crazy man slowed considerably to better navigate the bumpy, constantly twisting road before them.

Finally he reached over to turn off the music and said, "Usually people are more talkative before I hand them over to those weirdos on the mountain. Don't you want to tell me your life story? Complain about your husband or kids? Tell me all about the time your uncle molested you?"

Livia shook her head, "No, not particularly."

He snorted laughter again, "Good. There's nothing I hate more than mouthy assholes."

Time passed and they drove further and further up the mountain, the sound of birdsong the only accompaniment to the roar of the big truck's engine. Eventually the climb became so steep that she feared falling off the side and rolling all the way back down the mountain. The man driving seemed to notice her sudden apprehension and said, "Don't worry. I've gone up and down this road a thousand times. We'll be fine...or, at least, I will be."

"I don't know why you're doing this," Livia said, shaking so bad that she thought she might fall apart. "You don't have to do this. Please, mister, just let me go."

She heard a growl of frustration emit from him, "Not this shit again. You want me to let you go, huh? Out _here_? You wanna get eaten by a fucking mountain lion?"

Livia began to cry in earnest as they reached a more leveled off area, the tears coming so fast that everything around her was a blur as she begged, "No, please, take me back to the highway and I'll walk back. I just want to go home."

"Let's assume for a moment that I'm actually considering it," he said, slowing the truck down to a crawl. "What are _you_ gonna do for _me_? How are you going to convince me to do that, candy pants?"

Livia drew in a deep breath, feeling that faint stirring of hope in her chest once again, and said, "I....I don't know."

"Wrong answer!" the madman exclaimed, accelerating again and bringing them further up Mount Chiliad.

"Wait!" she said, panicking. "I'll... I'll do anything you want, I promise! _I don't want to die_!"

He stomped on the brakes and the truck came to a skidding halt, sending a wash of pebbles and dirt over each side of the narrow, rutted path. "Anything, huh?" he asked, setting the emergency brake and tapping his fingers rapidly on the steering wheel for a moment; thinking. 

After a long, drawn out pause he finally spoke again and his words sent a dagger of fear straight into the pit of her belly, hardly able to believe what she was hearing as he asked, "What if I tell you to suck my cock? Would you do that, sunshine? Suck me off and swallow what comes out?"

She could hear the nasty pleasure in his voice as he spoke and it chilled her blood. He was still taking great delight in scaring her but this time something about his voice sounded different. Interested, that was the change. He sounded interested.

It seemed that she took too long to answer because he reached for the emergency brake again and said, "Yeah. That's what I thought. Fuck it, let's get going. Your new buddies are waiting for you, after all."

"Wait!" Livia cried, throwing up her hands and squeezing her eyes shut; trying to gather her courage once more.

He grew very still beside her, " _Yeeeeees_?"

"I'll do it," she said, still crying; her voice hollow and lifeless. "Whatever you want. I'll do it."

He chuckled and said, "Now that's a good girl. See? I'm not unreasonable. You help me, I'll help you. Right?"

She nodded, stifling a sob, and clasped her hands loosely in her lap, looking down at them trembling there and letting her long brown hair shield her face from him. 

There was a long beat of silence and then the man behind the wheel said, "Look at me."

"No, please, don't make me."

"Why not?"

"If I don't see your face you can still let me go," she explained, shaking harder than ever now. "I'll do whatever you want, I swear...then you can let me go."

He let out an amused grunt, "But I like eye contact when I blow my load, you know? It's gonna take a lot longer if you never look at me."

"Please," she repeated, her voice so small that it could barely be heard. "Don't make me look at you."

She felt him scoot closer to her and then he reached toward her. She saw a big calloused hand reaching for her face and flinched away, "No!"

He growled again and gripped her chin in his dirty hand, yanking her head to the left to face him. Without thinking about it, she closed her eyes before she could catch a glimpse of his face and held them shut as tightly as if he were some strange Boogeyman who couldn't hurt her as long as she didn't see him.

"God fucking damn it," he growled, his voice low; dangerous. "Look at me."

She tried to shake her head but the hard hand gripping her face was too strong. She could manage no more than the tiniest wobble of negation, serving only to further enrage her captor.

His hand tightened on her and his grip was painful now as he roared, " ** _LOOK AT ME!!!_** "

Petrified, Livia immediately obeyed and finally saw the face of the man who had abducted her over an hour ago. A Caucasian man in his mid-to-late forties, he wore a bloodstained white T-shirt and faded blue jeans that looked like they were stiff with filth. His hair was short, a shade of brown that was only a bit lighter than hers, and receding on top. His unkempt, wooly eyebrows knotted together above eyes that were dark brown and narrowed angrily on her much lighter ocean blue ones. He had a five o'clock shadow and a mouth that was pressed into a hard line below a nose that looked like it might've been broken a time or two in the past. His neck was thick and tattooed; a dotted line encircling it with the words 'Cut Here' printed below his Adam's apple. Every part of him that she could see looked hard and muscled, like he had very little fat on his powerfully intimidating frame. The most surprising thing of all about him was that he somehow managed to look even crazier than she had expected. 

"There," he said, his voice gentler now; almost a purr once again. "That's better, eh?"

Staring into his mad eyes, she nodded and felt tears spill over her lower lids. A look of mild disgust passed over his face at the sight of them and he released her. 

"You're prettier than me," he said. "Much prettier. Looks like you got the shitty end of the stick in this deal." He hooked one thick finger into the collar of her blouse and pulled it down, exposing the lilac-colored cups of her bra, making her gasp in fear. "You got a nice set of tits on you, cupcake. Your ass isn't bad, either." He released her blouse and it hung loosely now, the fabric stretched out. "You're a bit younger than I'd normally like," he continued. "But that's no big deal. We can work around that. What are you? Twenty eight? Thirty?"

"Thirty five," she answered.

He nodded to himself and smiled just a little, obviously pleased, "Thirty five, okay, yeah. That's good."

Crying so hard that she could barely find the breath to speak, she told him, "Look, I'll do whatever you want. As long as you let me go after I'll...I'll do anything."

He gave her an angry smirk, one eyebrow lifted in a look of devilish amusement, "Oh, I know, honeybunch. I know."

She thought he would reach for the fly of his pants then but instead he released the emergency brake and got the truck rolling again. He drove on for a moment until he found a place wide enough to turn around and then they were heading back the way they'd come, back down the mountain. She thought she should feel relief at this but instead she felt her terror rise another notch higher.

"What's your name?" he asked in his oddly pleasant voice. "No, let me guess..." he thought for a moment, "It's probably Jessica or Janey or something, right? You look like a Jane to me."

"Livia," she replied, wiping her tears away with unsteady hands. "Livia Wallace."

He grunted in surprise and said, "Livia? That's not half-bad either, you know. Suits you."

She sniffled and said nothing. 

Suddenly he released the wheel with his right hand and offered it to her. "I'm Trevor," he said; perhaps unknowingly mimicking her timidity. "Trevor Philips."

She numbly took his hand in hers, a sinking feeling slowly settling in her guts, and allowed him to pump her hand up and down three times before releasing it. Then, adding to the craziness she was already struggling to come to terms with, he said, "Nice to meet you, Livia. I have a feeling that you and me are gonna have a lot of fun together."

He gave his strange laugh again and Livia only cried harder than ever; thinking about deals with the devil and wondering if she'd ever see home again.


	3. Chapter 3

"Would you knock that shit off already?" Trevor snapped irritably at his passenger. "I've been listening to you piss and moan for almost two hours now and it's starting to give me a fucking headache."

Livia sniffled and choked down her next sob in order to obey him; wiping burning tears from eyes that felt puffy and raw. They were far from Los Santos now, way out in the desert and approaching a small town. They passed a sign reading **Welcome to Sandy Shores! We have Liquor. Pop 3,010** and behind it was perhaps the sorriest looking place she'd ever seen. Rows and rows of beaten up cars parked next to ancient trailers marched past her line of vision. Here and there she spotted people sitting in lawn chairs with bottles of Pißwasser beer clutched in their grimy fists outside on 'lawns' that sported more kiddie pools and broken down junk than grass. The few businesses she glimpsed were either run down or boarded up and abandoned. The whole town looked like an afterthought that was halfway through its final, dying gasp.

After a few more minutes of driving down a mostly empty road scarred by neglect, they turned onto another street (this one called Zancudo Avenue) and continued onward until they had nearly reached the end. Finally the madman beside her let his truck drift across the double lane to the left hand side and came to a halt next to a rusty little trailer that sported a waist-high chain-link fence surrounding another trashed out, half dead front lawn.

Turning his head to grin at Livia, he said, "Welcome to Casa Philips, my dear." He let his eyes slip closed for a second and his nostrils flared as he inhaled in an exaggerated manner. He let his breath out again with a sigh of contentment as his eyes opened; once again exhibiting that twinkle of gleefully capering madness in their dark brown depths as his grin grew even wider. "Ah, yeah. You smell that mix of decay, shit and forgotten dreams? That could be nothing else but Sandy fucking Shores. Or, as I call it, home sweet home. It's sad to say but...I missed this place and didn't even know it."

Then, without another word, he was taking the key out of the ignition and opening the driver's side door. He jogged around the front of the truck and came to her side. He opened the door and grabbed her by her right wrist; pulling her out and slamming the door again once she was clear. He gripped her so tightly as he led her toward the gate leading in that she knew she had no chance of getting away even if she'd been dumb enough to try. She only had to look at the pistol stuffed into the back of his pants to remind herself that escape was virtually impossible at this point. The only way she was getting out of here was if this crazy fuck decided to let her go.

Trevor blissfully hummed some tune as he pulled her along behind him up the rickety steps and onto the porch. He shoved the trailer door open with a bang and extended one hand toward the opening with that big grin still plastered on his homely face, "After you, dollface."

From where she was standing Livia could only see a couple of sagging cardboard boxes inside near the door but the smell wafting out of there was absolutely disgusting; almost making her gag. It reeked of sweat, dirty clothes, spoiled food and yet, underneath all that, there was another stink that she couldn't quite identify. It was a bitter chemical smell that reminded her a little of burnt plastic; something that was much worse than all the other smells combined. She didn't want to go in there; she _couldn't_ go in there. Not only was there a possibility of catching something like ringworm but there was the much greater likelihood that she would never come back out again. Not alive, anyway. She knew she should comply in an effort to keep him happy but she was frozen in place; her legs refusing to propel her forward.

Trevor saw her obvious hesitation and his easy smile curdled into a look of fury that was much more at home on his face than the other. His lips skinned back from his teeth as he reached out with his free hand and snatched up a big handful of her long wind-tangled brown hair. She cried out in pain as he roared his next words through clenched teeth, " _I said get the fuck in there, you simpering cunt!_ "

Then she was being shoved inside, her tiny yelp of terror following her as she stumbled over a stray work boot and fell painfully to her hands and knees directly in front of a cramped, filthy bathroom. Trevor slammed the door behind them and she stayed where she was, her hair hanging in her face as she looked down at filthy carpet littered with cigarette butts and discarded candy wrappers. Unsurprisingly, it was also intermittently stained with what looked suspiciously like blood.

"You gotta learn how to listen better if we're going to do this," he told her, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath her hands as he approached her. "You're not going to last the night if you don't wise up."

When she made no attempt to rise Trevor leaned down, hooked one big hand into her armpit, and hauled her to her feet once more, saying, "Upsy daisy."

As she came face to face with him she began to cry again and begged, "P-please don't hurt me."

His easy smile returned at this and he reached out for her face. She involuntarily flinched back but he held her still with one hand on her shoulder and only brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes with the other. "I'm afraid that wasn't part of our deal," he purred at her, the words dripping off of his tongue like poison-laced honey. "Your exact words were 'anything', remember? Whatever I want."

Livia's face crumpled and she sobbed hollowly; covering her eyes with her hands so she wouldn't have to look at him anymore. Her shoulders shook as the torrent was let loose and her knees felt so weak that she thought she might fall to the floor again. Trevor let her go on for a minute, watching her avidly, and then she felt him wrap his thick arms around her in a shockingly gentle hug.

She was limp against him, sobbing in big wretched gasps that hurt her chest with every breath, and he rubbed her back slowly with one hand. "Oh, come on," he said next to her right ear, his voice deceptively calm. "It's gonna be okay. Uncle T is gonna to take real good care of you, sugarpie. As long as you do what I say I think we'll get along just fine."

After a long moment she managed to regain a bit of composure and drew away from him, regarding him with eyes that were red-rimmed and desperately hopeful. "I will," she whispered. "I'll do what you want, Trevor."

His grin stretched out until that insane mirth sparkled in his dark eyes once again and he said, "Jesus...the way you said my name just now." He whistled appreciatively through his teeth and winked at her. "Gave me half a chub, not gonna lie."

Livia only looked at him with her wet eyes, not knowing what to say. She watched his face as he stepped back a little and ran his eyes over the curves of her trembling body. He reached out with one hand and cupped her hip in his sweaty palm. "Goddamn but you look good. Your hair a mess, clothes all wrinkled," his eyes flicked back up to her face for a moment and he bit his lower lip with a grunt of approval. "Your mascara smeared all over, mmm...so fucking sexy. I'm not at half-mast anymore, darlin'. I'm standing at full attention now."

He grabbed one of her hands and placed it over the large bulge under the fly of his jeans. She could feel the rock-hard flesh beneath the fabric throbbing and twitching under her hand, frightening her with it's unquestionable reality. She looked into his eyes and there was only lust and madness there; no remorse, no pity and certainly no mercy. This sadistic son of a bitch was going to enjoy every single minute of pain that he could manage to inflict upon her.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Trevor's head snapped in that direction, his brow furrowing as the smile disappeared from his lips so quickly that it might've never been there at all. Livia quickly took her hand away from his crotch as soon as his hand no longer forced her to keep it there. The feel of his eagerness under her had been disgusting as well as terrifying.

"T?" came a wavering, uncertain man's voice from outside. "You home? It's me, Ron. I saw your truck outside and-"

Growling like a pissed off bear again, Trevor took four steps away from her and gripped the doorknob in one hand, jerking the door open so fast that the little man wearing thick glasses, a knee brace and a tan-colored fisherman's hat stumbled and nearly fell inside the trailer.

"For fuck's sake, Ron!" Trevor shouted at him. "I haven't been home five minutes and here you are bothering me already! What in the name of all that's holy do you want?"

The man's eyes switched nervously from Trevor to Livia and then back again as he softly shut the door behind him, "Sorry, T. I didn't know you had company. I j-just wanted to talk to you. You haven't been answering my calls or texts or emails and I-"

"I didn't answer them because I didn't want to talk to you, you dumb shit," Trevor spat at him, his eyes so full of rage that she thought they might start shooting sparks. "Hurry up and tell me whatever it is that's so important it couldn't wait until tomorrow." When Ron hesitated he roared at him, " _Spit it out before I rip your fucking face off!_ "

"Sure, T. Sure," Ron tittered anxiously, his hands wringing together in front of the red Hawaiian-style shirt that did a terrible job of concealing the middle-aged man paunch of fat at his waist. "It's just that Chef has been having some...issues at the cook site. And Wade, well, Wade won't stop calling and telling me that he wants to come home. He said he misses us."

Trevor only looked at this odd little man for a moment and then scrubbed his hands over his face, groaning and muttering something unintelligible. When he looked at Ron again his countenance was something approaching calm but in his eyes that boundless rage burned hotter than ever. "Is that it?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow in a look that could almost be mistaken for amusement. "Really?"

"N-no, T," he sputtered quickly. "Some packages came for you while you were gone. I brought them back to my place and I'll bring them over right away, you know...I - I mean, if you want."

This only seemed to agitate Trevor all the more. "No, I don't fucking want, Ron. Not today." He returned, tilting his head toward where Livia stood before adding, "Can't you see I'm a little busy at the moment?'

Ron's eyes widened and he glanced over at her before looking back at Trevor once more. "Oh!" he cried, one corner of his mouth twitching upward in an uneasy smile. "Of course, I'm sorry, T! I'll go. Just, um, yell for me if you need anything."

"Yeah, okay, great," Trevor grumbled and then, his voice rising into another shout, he pointed toward the door. "Now get the fuck out!"

Ron turned around so fast that he almost fell and Livia watched his hands paw ineffectually at the doorknob for several seconds before he finally managed to get the door open again. He ran out like it was the last few moments before a bomb went off (not that that was far from the truth) and Trevor leaned over to slam the door with another bang; cutting off her momentary glimpse of the outside world.

"Why am I surrounded by nothing but dipshits?" he asked, sounding as if he were speaking more to himself than her. When he turned to look at her again she saw that his face had smoothed out somewhat and that look of leering depravity came to replace the irritation that had been there. "So...where were we?"

She watched him come closer, his shoulders dropping and his head lowering until he was staring into her eyes through a faint mask of shadow, and waited for him to continue scaring the hell out of her. Suddenly there was a chiming noise and he stopped in his tracks. After a second the chime came again and she realized that it must be his phone ringing in his pocket. His face reverting back to that angry look was a terrible thing to see in that moment and her knees went weak; it was like seeing a dark purple thundercloud gathering on the horizon during what had seemed to be a calm day. It was a look that promised beaucoup death and destruction for anyone unlucky enough to be caught in its path.

Trevor furiously dug in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He jabbed the surface with the blunt end of one thick finger and it stopped ringing midway through the four-note tone. He brought it up to his ear and nearly screamed, " _What?!_ "

He listened for a moment and she saw his left hand clenching and unclenching in spasms. "Are you sure?" A pause. "Well, I'm not at the club right now. I'm back home."

Then he was listening again and she watched him toss back his head to give out a long, disgusted sigh. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be here, Mikey," he said, sounding put-out. "How far away are you?"

Another pause and she could faintly hear a man's voice on the other end speaking to him. "Yeah, yeah. Fine. Fuck it. Let the whole goddamned world come knocking. Who gives a shit if I'm _busy_ , eh?"

She heard a shout respond to him through the phone but Trevor took it away from his ear and hung up on whoever this 'Mikey' guy was. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and his dark eyes met Livia's once more. "Sorry, darlin'. Looks like we're gonna have to wait on our fun a little bit. Got a friend coming over and I gotta help him out...the fat fucking turd." When she said nothing he cocked his head and pointed a finger at her, "Hey, you hungry?"

Livia swallowed thickly and shrugged. She hadn't eaten that morning and it was past her usual lunchtime now but fear seemed to be a wonderful appetite suppressant. She had been so concerned with staying alive that the thought of food had never once crossed her mind.

Trevor moved away from the door and toward the dented refrigerator in his filthy little kitchenette. He pulled the door open and bent down to look inside. As his back was to her and he began to rummage around in the fridge's contents, Livia looked over at the closed door of the trailer. She longed to step out into the open air again; to be free again. The need to run and never look back was so strong that she unconsciously took a sliding half-step toward it. She was focusing so hard on that grungy-looking doorknob that she didn't notice Trevor turn back around to look at her. 

"Don't even think about it," he warned in his angry voice; making her jump guiltily. "You won't get two steps out the door before I'll be on you like stink on shit."

Livia felt absurdly ashamed as she forced herself to meet his eyes with her own, "I - I wasn't -"

His mouth curved upward in a wicked smile and the deadly look in his eyes never changed, making her feel as if she would start crying again any minute. "Don't lie to me, Livia," he told her, shaking his balding head at her. "I fucking _hate_ liars."

She looked away for a second and, knowing she had been caught, replied in her small voice, "I'm sorry, Trevor."

The chilly look in his eyes warmed up a degree or two and he went on, leaning his arm on the door of the fridge and dipping his head down in a way that reminded her of someone divulging a great secret, "You know how they say honesty is always the best policy? Well, most of the time that's grade A bullshit but...not with me, sweet pea. As long as you're straight with me I'll be straight with you and everything will be hunky dory. Okay?"

Livia nodded her head and tried a smile; relieved when he responded by favoring her with a less frightening version of his own. She had to be very, very careful with this man, she realized. He seemed eerily perceptive in a way that could spell big trouble for her if she didn't watch herself and take care not to be too obvious about what she was thinking or feeling at any given moment. He might look like your standard white trash moron but at almost every turn he had shown her that he was a far cry from stupid. There was a bright, almost animal-like cunning in his dark gaze; akin to some huge predator waiting for the opportunity to sink his teeth into your throat if you didn't manage to stay one step ahead of him at all times. She didn't know if she could do it, didn't know if she had it in her, but she didn't want to die so she had no choice but to try anyway.

He was right about one thing at least; if she didn't learn fast she probably wouldn't last the night with him. She'd be occupying an unmarked grave somewhere before the sun rose in the morning. 


	4. Chapter 4

Trevor ended up sending the nervous guy, Ron, out to get them something to eat since everything he had was rotten. Once the trailer door was shut again, Livia watched as he went to the dingy little couch to her left and began clearing off the clutter laying there; flinging magazines, newspapers and dirty clothes off to one side. Once it was clear he sat with a sigh and a cloud of dust rose up around him; motes dancing in the dim sunlight filtering through dirty shades over the windows. He kicked off his boots and exposed socks that looked grimy and had a hole in the tip of the left one, letting his hairy big toe poke out. The smell of sweaty feet was now prominent amid the other various funky smells around her. 

Trevor looked over at her with a grin and patted the cushion next to him, "Come here. Have a seat and get comfortable."

She knew if she didn't obey immediately he would get angry again so she walked over to him on legs that felt numb and sat as far to the right of him as she possibly could. She was trying to stay calm, trying to keep herself from crying again, but she could feel the lump rising in her throat already.

His smile grew a little wider, "Closer."

Livia began to tremble again and scooted over on the lumpy cushion until their knees were touching. He let an arm drift around her shoulders and she stiffened up at once as he pulled her into a half-assed one armed hug. Her back was a straight line, her shoulders almost up around her ears, and her breathing became shallow and fast; making her feel slightly dizzy. She shook so hard now that she felt as though she would jitter apart as the warmth of his skin bled through the back of her blouse.

"Don't be so fucking tense," he said with a laugh. "Just relax."

Livia tried but she couldn't do it. As his other hand settled heavily along her left thigh, separated only by the thin fabric of her black slacks, she could feel her heart pounding so hard that her vision pulsed along with it. He roughly squeezed and massaged her thigh as his other hand traced the line of her bra strap with the tip of one finger. She clutched her hands together in her lap, gripping her fingers so hard that her knuckles had turned white, and tried to keep herself from screaming.

"Give me your hand," he said, his voice thicker than normal as his breath shifted the hair lying over her ear.

She forced her hands to release their death grip and offered one to him; trembling so hard that it looked like an electrical current was passing through it. He took her hand in his and placed it over the throbbing mass beneath his fly. "Maybe we have to wait for the real fun until later," he said. "But there's no harm in getting a little taste of what's to come, is there?"

The tears spilled over her lower lids. "Please," she whispered, "Please, _don't_."

"It's too late for that," he crooned, sounding as if he were smiling again. "Far, far too late."

He brushed her hand aside for a moment and then quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. She didn't look over as he freed his cock from his pants and underwear but she felt his hand take hers again and place it over the surprisingly hard length of it. He was hot and throbbing; so rigid that it felt like a stone covered with skin. Her heart beat skipped for a moment and then rushed onward, thudding in her chest like a padded hammer as his cock pulsed under her hand.

"You know what to do, don't you?" Trevor asked, pleasure evident in his husky tone.

"Y-yes," she whispered.

"Then fucking do it."

She closed her hand around his shaft and began stroking him, trying to keep herself from audibly sobbing as he groaned in ecstasy and leaned his head back against the couch. She slid her hand up and down, massaging him in the exact same way she'd done her husband thousands of times before, and she felt his hips rising up in an effort to fit even more of it into her grip.

She felt his hand tightening on her shoulder and then he was pulling her closer as his breathing was slowly becoming more rough and ragged. He began to buck his hips a little in time with each stroke and she tried her best to please him. At best she hoped to make him cum as quickly as she could and make it end already. But, rather than ejaculating, he began to groan and shudder helplessly next to her. Then, to her horror, he slid his hand up to the back of her neck and began to push her head down toward his lap.

"Suck it," he said, his voice a breathless growl now. "Come on. Suck my cock."

Livia hesitated, her hand loosening on him, and tried to pull away from him without thinking. Everything in her was telling her to bolt; to run screaming for the door leading out even though a part of her knew it would be suicide. She had promised to do anything he wanted but now that it came time to fulfill that promise she couldn't bring herself to do it. 

Trevor seemed to sense this change in her and his hand tightened painfully on the back of her neck, hitting a pressure point that sent a line of pain all the way down to her shoulder blade. "Do it!" he raged, shoving her head down toward his lap. "Fucking do it or I'll poke an eye out and skull-fuck you to _death_!"

Livia squirmed in pain as his turgid member neared her face, trying to fight him even though she knew it was hopeless. He growled in frustration and suddenly grabbed her face with his other hand. He slid two thick fingers up to her mouth and pried it open roughly with a grunt of satisfaction.

"No teeth," he warned her. "I feel a tooth scrape me and you're fucking dead."

Then he was forcing her mouth down onto his cock; shoving it in until it hit the back of her throat. She inhaled through her nose and the sour, musky smell of him invaded her being. Then her tongue was laying along his length and she could taste him as well; dirty skin and sweat that made her feel as though she would vomit. She probably would have if there'd been anything in her stomach to purge.

Knowing there was no other choice, she finally submitted and began to do what he wanted. He moaned long and loud as she began, his rough hand digging into the back of her neck and forcing her to stay down. She gripped his thighs to steady herself and her head bobbed up and down at a pace that he controlled completely. His cock slid in and out, rubbing against her tongue and hitting the back of her throat again and again. Her tears fell on his lap as he shuddered even more violently than before and said, "Oh, that's good. Yeah, darlin', just like that."

Livia continued to fellate him and kept her eyes shut the entire time; trying not to think about it or anything at all and let her mind go blank. But it was hard to do with all of the noise he was making; growling and sighing and moaning as she tried her best to please him. He began to buck his hips again, forcing his cock further down her throat, and she tried again to pull away a little. 

"No, you don't," he panted, his hand squeezing down harder and harder, making her let out a muffled cry of pain. "You're not going anywhere, you fucking cunt."

He arched his back and the thickness of him was cutting off her air, choking her. She tried to relax in order to lessen the pain as he fucked her throat at a rapid pace; giving in totally and praying that it would just be over soon as involuntary tears streamed down her cheeks. He let his free hand come up to grip her hair between his powerful fingers and twisted, intentionally hurting her as he continued to use her.

She could feel her face turning red from lack of oxygen as he went on and on. "Look at me," he said in a voice that sounded greedy and insane with lust. "Look at me, Livia!" She obeyed and his eyes were narrowed slits of concentration on hers, his brow furrowed and thunderous. For a moment she thought she might actually asphyxiate on this maniac's dick but finally he let out a long gutteral moan and threw his head back again, "Oh, fuck! Fuck! _Fuuuuck_!" Suddenly his cock began to twitch and spasm and he released her to grab at the top of his couch and brace himself as he came. She pulled back just in time to keep it from going straight down her throat as his seed came shooting out; filling her mouth with sudden, salty warmth.

Trevor was panting and shaking, his chest heaving hard and fast, and she quickly drew away from him as soon as his cock quit convulsing. She turned her head to the right and he saw her, understanding that jerk of her head completely. "No, no, no. Never spit out my shit. You fucking swallow it," he commanded, his rough voice brooking no argument.

She forced herself to do it and began to gag helplessly afterwards; still struggling to catch her breath as her stomach rolled and flipped painfully inside of her and water filled her mouth. Little by little, she somehow managed to get control over her gorge and not puke.

"Good girl!" Trevor told her, sounding pleased. "I'm honestly impressed, you know that? I didn't think you'd keep it down."

Livia heard his zipper going back up and his belt buckling again and covered her face with her hands; her entire body burning with shame and humiliation. His hand softly touched her back and she flinched away, turning from him so that she could lay her face against the filthy cushion next to her head. "Jesus," he said in a tone of sudden exasperation. "Here we go again."

She sobbed quietly as Trevor stood and stretched, his spine popping like a string of firecrackers. He looked back at her for a long time, his face pinched in thought. "You really are a fucking crybaby, aren't you?" he asked with a sigh of resignation. Then, grumbling and finally acquiescing, "Well...I guess I can live with that if I have to. You sucked my boy so good that I can probably overlook a couple of faults, you know?"

Then he was chuckling and turning away from her. Livia huddled into a ball on his dirty sofa, her shoulders shaking and her head throbbing with the force of her despair as she continued sobbing.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Ron returned with a few grease-stained bags from Burger Shot, Livia had cried so much that she was left feeling empty inside. She sat at the table between them and nibbled at a burger that was half-cold and had all the flavor of wet cardboard. Trevor and Ron were talking about something, some business they had to take care of, but she barely heard a word that either one of them were saying. She didn't care and, besides, she was too preoccupied by her own thoughts at the moment.

Judging by the sun, it was nearing three o'clock and her husband, Paul, would be calling her in an hour to check in and see if she wanted to cook or get take out for dinner. He'd probably start to worry when she didn't pick up by the third try and if he called the office and found out she hadn't been in today he would probably freak out and immediately call the police. Not that the LSPD would do all that much good anyway, hell, they certainly never had before. People went missing in Los Santos all the time and you didn't hear a damned thing about it unless they were someone with money; an actress or politician or billionaires like that creepy Devin Weston guy who vanished a while back. No one gave a shit about some barely-scraping-by thirty five year old secretary at an insurance company...but they had to at least put out an APB or missing person's poster or something, right? They had to go through the motions of some kind of investigation, didn't they? Or maybe not. She had no idea, really. True crime and detective stories had never been high on her list of interests.

A sudden sound outside finally got her attention and she listened intently as a car pulled up next to the trailer; the sandy bits and pebbles that made up the earth out there crunching under the tires. There was the sound of a door opening and shutting and, a moment later, footsteps on the porch. There was a loud knock on the door and Ron jumped up to answer it. When the door opened, a man with short black hair and a fancy blue suit came sauntering in. Livia felt wild hope spring forth in her heart at the sight of another seemingly normal human being.

"Hey, Michael," Trevor said, dashing her hopes in an instant as he wiped his greasy mouth on a napkin and stood from his place next to her. "Good to see you, buddy."

"Yeah, you too. Listen, I hate to do this but I've gotten myself in some big fucking trouble, T," said the guy who looked like a cop but wasn't. Then his eyes shifted and fell upon Livia. "Who the hell is this?" he asked, stopping in his tracks and pointing at her for emphasis. 

Trevor laid one hand on her shoulder and she flinched, nearly screaming at his sudden, unexpected touch. "This is my...errr, lady. Livia," he explained in a voice that almost sounded pleasant. Then, speaking to her, "Say hello to the nice man, sweet cheeks."

Instead of screaming or causing any kind of scene, she made herself calmly raise her hand and say, "Hi."

"Oh, Trevor, _no,_ " groaned the man in the suit. "You...you've gotta be fucking kidding. Don't tell me she's another Mrs. Madrazo..." His blue eyes flicked over to hers and then back at Trevor again. "Where did you get this one from?"

 _This one?_ she thought. _So there have been others before me?_ Livia didn't know why she was surprised at all by this information.

"Don't be stupid, Mikey," Trevor scoffed. "She's not a gangster's wife." A look of sudden doubt crossed his face as he looked down at her and asked, "Are you?"

She slowly shook her head, "N-no. My husband works in construction."

Trevor looked back up at Michael and spread his hands in a 'see, what did I tell you?' gesture.

" _Jesus_ ," the man in the blue suit and shiny shoes said as he rubbed a hand across his brow. It was as if he could feel a real banger of a headache starting there. Then he gave a shake of his head, clearly deciding that wasn't what was important to him. "Look, whatever. I need your help, Trevor. I know I said we should keep our contact to a minimum but I'm in way over my head here. I need some back up in the worst way. There's this guy I owe a little money to and he -"

Trevor made a _tsk-tsk_ sound and shook his head, "More gambling debts? When will you learn, Mikey? Just go out and get yourself a nice drug habit like everyone else."

Michael's eyebrows came together and for a moment the line of his jaw became firmer, hiding the start of a double chin that lurked beneath. "Hey, fuck you," he said, pointing a finger at him. "Who are you to judge me? So high and fucking mighty when you're out there kidnapping random women and keeping them as some kind of... _pet_ or...or, I don't know, whatever the fuck this sick shit is!"

"Fuck me?" Trevor asked, his face cramping into a look of sudden fury. "No, _fuck you_! I'm not the traitor who disappeared for nine years and let his best friend think he was dead!"

"I thought we buried that hatchet," Michael returned, throwing up his hands and rolling his eyes. "How many times am I going to have to apologize for that? How many times are you going to throw it in my face at every available opportunity? I was painted into a fucking corner and you know it! What I did, I did because I had to."

"Fellas," Ron tried. "Don't you think that -"

" ** _SHUT THE FUCK UP, RON!_** " Trevor screamed, making Livia jump and goosebumps rise all over her body. "Keep your fucking trap shut when your betters are talking!"

Ron bowed his head and turned to his food again, "Y-yeah, sure, T. Sorry, T.

"Listen, Trevor," Michael said with a sigh, his anger gone as suddenly as it had appeared. "I'm sorry. Let's not rehash old shit. I wouldn't have come all the way out here again if this wasn't serious, believe me. Franklin's already waiting for us and we've only got this one chance to -"

"Say no more," Trevor told him, raising one hand. "Of course I'm going to help you out. After all, what are friends for?" He glanced down at Livia and added, "Just let me take care of a few things and we'll be on our way."

Michael nodded and took a seat on the plaid couch where Trevor had assaulted her earlier, brushing off the fabric before planting his butt on the cushion.

Trevor went for the door and then outside, leaving Livia and the other two men to sit and stare at each other in awkward silence.

Michael tried a smile but it fell flat. He rubbed his hands together and his clean-shaven cheeks puffed out as he blew out a breath. "So..." he said, lifting his eyebrows at her. "Where did you two, uh, meet?"

Livia cleared her throat and answered, "I stopped into a 24/7 for gas this morning and he was robbing the place. Took me with him on the way out."

"Oh," said the man in the blue suit, frowning. "I see."

She glanced over at Ron and saw that he wasn't paying any attention to them; just sitting there and swirling a french fry around and around in a splat of ketchup. Livia didn't have much time here. She couldn't trust the guy in the glasses, that was obvious, but Michael seemed to be different...at the very least he seemed disapproving of this whole thing. She turned back to Michael and, knowing that she was taking a huge risk but seeing no other choice, she mouthed as slowly and clearly as she could the words 'help me'.

"Uh..." was his response.

'Please' she tried again, mouthing the word at him out of sheer desperation as she clasped her hands together as if in prayer. She didn't know what she expected him to do, they didn't know each other from Adam, but he had to see how fucked up this was, didn't he? She was a human being; not an object, not a pet. How could he turn a blind eye to another human being in peril and still call himself a decent man?

Michael looked away and lifted one hand; running it over his short black hair as his mouth turned down in a moue of distaste. After a moment he looked back at her and slowly shook his head as he whispered, "I...I really can't. I'm sorry."

So maybe he didn't approve of what was happening here but he wasn't going to do anything to actually help her, either. She couldn't even say that she was surprised. No one had ever given much of a shit about her before, why would that change now? Still, Livia thought she would cry if she had any tears left in her but it seemed as though that well had run dry...for a little while anyway. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and head hung low in dejection, she thought, _Trevor was right about you, Mikey. You_ are _a turd._

Trevor came back into the trailer again, carrying a length of heavy chain in his arms and wearing a broad smile. "Thought I'd already used this to weigh down someone when I threw 'em in the Alamo Sea but I guess I was wrong. Huh. Wonder what the hell I did with 'em then." He shrugged, dismissing it, and approached Livia.

"Aw, come on, Trevor," Michael groaned, standing from the couch and raising his hands in exasperation; probably in an effort to convince himself that he was helping her as much as he possibly could. "You can't be serious."

But Trevor was serious, it seemed. He dropped the chain on the floor at her feet and said, "I'm afraid this is one flighty bird I've caged, Mike. I can't take the chance she'll fly the coop while I'm gone. Not before we've had our fun, anyway." Then he winked at Livia, sending a shiver of dread down her spine.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Ron volunteered, turning around once more as his sallow face brightened a little at the chance to prove himself a loyal dog to his master. "You can count on me, T. I swear it."

Trevor gave a high-pitched giggle and shook his head, "You couldn't stop a six year old, Ron. Not even one of those little crippled ones with the crutches. No, thanks. I'll take this fine American steel over your flabby middle-aged ass any day."

Ron turned back around and his head hung even lower than Livia's did as he went back to swirling his ketchup around and around on a napkin.

Trevor grabbed her shoulder and forced her to her feet. "Come here, darlin'," he told her. "It's just a little insurance policy. No big deal, huh?"

She nodded faintly and he smiled even wider before he kneeled down and wrapped one end of the heavy chain around her right ankle. Taking a brand new padlock out of his pocket, he linked it through the loops and secured her; making the chain too tight to slip her foot out of but, thankfully, not so tight that it hurt. Then he grabbed the other end and began searching for a place to anchor her. He drifted toward the other end of the trailer until he spotted the toilet. He wrapped the other end of the chain around the base of the toilet and secured it with another padlock. He pulled several times to make sure that it was holding and then dropped the chain with a loud clatter.

"That'll have to do for now," he said, speaking to himself. He turned back to the others and looked to Michael, "I'm ready if you are, amigo."

Michael took in a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah, okay. Let's get going before Frank starts getting impatient."

He headed for the door and Trevor went in the opposite direction, making his way toward Livia again. She was still standing, her hands clasped together loosely in front of her, and watched him come, trying to keep her expression neutral.

He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, his insane eyes burning into hers as he said, "I'll be back in a little while, pumpkin. You stay here and play nice with Ron, okay?"

Livia nodded again and he bent down to kiss her on the mouth; his lips warm and surprisingly soft on hers. She heard Michael's sigh of disgust from where he stood waiting by the door and struggled not to pull away from Trevor, though she could not bring herself to return the kiss. Trevor stood up straight again and turned to regard Ron with his angry look.

"You be nice, too," he warned, his teeth clenched and eyes narrowed. "If I come back here and she says that you've been anything less than a gentleman, I'll cut your cock off and make you eat it. Understand?"

Ron swallowed thickly and nodded as well, "O-of course. You don't have to worry about me. She'll be in good hands here."

Trevor's scowl only deepened, "Yeah, well, we'll see, won't we?"

Then he was moving for the door and slamming it shut behind him; his heavy footsteps thudding on the porch before fading. She heard Michael's car start up again and then they were driving off, leaving her with this odd little man who seemed to be - if not physically, then in spirit at the very least - as much a captive of Trevor's as she was.


	6. Chapter 6

Livia sat on the couch after Trevor left and stared at the wall, her face blank and her heart filled with dread. He was finally gone but she knew that sooner or later he would return and she was fucking terrified of what would happen when he did. Ron went about the task of cleaning up the mess from their meal and when he was done he seemed to notice the look on her face, asking in his timid voice, "Do you, uh, do you need anything?"

She glanced over at him and the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness in the pit of her stomach caused the truth slip out, "Yeah, Ron, I do. I need to get the fuck out of here and go home."

His mouth twitched at the corners as if he were going to smile but his eyes looked worried and perhaps even a little sad as he said, "Well, I...I can't help you with that. Trevor would never forgive me."

"I know," she said, placing her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands; her next words muffled by her splayed fingers. "Just...forget I said anything, okay?"

Ron nodded and sat on the couch next to her with a sigh. "T's not that bad...not always, I mean," he told her, fiddling nervously with the seam on the outside of his khaki shorts. "You...you must've done something to make him do this. You owe him money or someone you know does..."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It was your classic 'wrong place, wrong time' kind of thing. I never saw him before in my life until this morning."

"Oh," Ron said, frowning and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Trevor can be funny like that sometimes. You really should consider yourself lucky, though. Usually he just kills -" He cut himself off as if realizing too late what he was saying and a look that was borderline apologetic clouded his weathered face. "Well, you probably don't want to hear that. Sorry."

Livia ignored him and curled up on the couch in a ball; facing away from him. Ron took the hint and stood again, leaving her to hug herself and stare at the wall some more. He went to sit at the table again and watched TV while Livia lay there with a dull ache in her jaw that was a constant reminder of Trevor's brutality only an hour earlier. Her mind turned to thoughts of her husband and how he must be worried to death about her by now. Despite all of the problems they'd been having over the last few years, it hurt like hell to think that she might never see him again. They'd been together since her first year out of high school and Paul was more like family to her than her own flesh and blood had ever been. It made her heart ache to be home safe again beside him and she cried quietly as the sound of some idiotic sitcom's laugh track relentlessly mocked her in the background.

Eventually she took the only refuge left to her and began to doze off. As it deepened into real slumber over the next twenty minutes or so, Livia left behind all the fear and despair bubbling up inside her. Even the pain in her jaw was forgotten and for a little while she knew nothing but darkness.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sound of the trailer door banging open at three in the morning woke her and she sat up with a cry of alarm; unsure of where she was or even who she was for a few seconds. Then she saw Trevor standing in the doorway; shirtless, his tattooed chest smeared with half-dried blood, a clenched rictus of a smile on his face as his eyes came to rest on hers. The horrible reality of her situation came rushing back to her all at once and terror enveloped her in a tight little cocoon once more; twisting her guts with cruel hands and making it hard for her to breathe as her throat narrowed down to a tiny pinhole.

The look on his face was bad but the gore-streaked knife clutched in the dripping fist of his right hand was so much worse. It hammered home the point of his insanity as she realized that surely whoever all that blood belonged to was not still among the living. A moan of fear escaped her mouth but Livia quickly smothered it with one hand; afraid it might cause him to turn the knife on her next.

But Trevor only threw his head back and howled, " ** _ROOOOON!!!_** "

He was just a few feet away from Trevor, standing in front of the door leading to the bedroom, but he inched closer anyway. His hands worried at each other again as he answered, "Y-yes, T?"

Trevor snapped his head to the left, his wild eyes finally landing on the cowering man beside him, and said, "Go get some grub for us."

"Of course, T. What do you want me to get?"

Trevor was digging into the front pocket of his blood-splattered jeans with his free hand and pulled out a battered brown leather wallet. Inside Livia could see a wad of bills thick enough to choke a horse. "I don't fucking care," he growled, flinging some money at him. "Just fuck off. Now. Before I decide to eat _you_."

Ron bent and scooped up a few bills and then he was gone; out the door so fast that he should've had a dust trail following him like in those old cartoons she used to watch as a kid. Trevor slammed the door after his departure and then turned the lock above the knob with his free hand. As he turned back around to face her, Livia began to silently pray that he would drop the knife. She would do anything this lunatic wanted if only he would drop the knife. She would get on her hands and knees and suck Satan's dick if that's what it took.

He took a few steps over to where she sat and she began to cry, not loud but hard; her shoulders shaking as tears clouded her vision. "No," she said, thinking that this was it; this was the end. " _Please_..."

Trevor stopped, cocking his head to one side as if perplexed by her sudden tears, and then looked down at himself. "Oh," he said, only realizing then that he was still holding the knife. He grunted as he flung it toward the sink and it left bloody smears and splashes where it landed spinning on the counter. Then he turned to look at her again and spread his bloody hands toward her to show that they were empty. "All gone. See?"

With the threat of the knife now absent, Livia managed to get a bit of control over herself and swallowed her next sob; leaving a hard little lump of pain in her chest. She wiped her eyes and looked up at him, thinking that something about him looked different underneath all that blood.

Trevor was smiling but it only further served to frighten her as his staring eyes swept across her body; the pupils dilated wide. The thick, coppery scent of blood hung around him like a shroud of death but there was another smell beneath it, not as strong as the blood but very distinct. It was that strange smell she'd noticed this morning on her arrival to this shitty little trailer; a kind of burnt plastic and ammonia mixture that stung her nostrils.

As he came closer to her, Livia shifted and the chain around her ankle clattered softly; reminding her that there was nowhere to run, no safe haven to be found from this madman. His hands reached out for her and she closed her eyes, waiting for whatever was coming next and trying desperately to gather a measure of composure. She felt the blood on his fingers smear across her chin as he gripped it and then he planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth so gently that it was startling in contrast.

Trevor drew back and said, "What a miserable fucking tits-up operation that turned out to be." He shook his head and smiled at her, his face clearing a little, "Ah, but I missed you. Couldn't wait to come home." For a moment his eyes searched her face in a needy way that was quite unexpected. "Did you miss me?"

She stared back at him, her eyes wide mirrors that only reflected his own image, as the smell of blood cloyed in her nose and made her feel like simultaneously vomiting and screaming. What was the right thing to say here? He said he hated liars but what was she supposed to do if the truth would only set him off? It was a catch 22 with deadly consequences.

"Nah, I didn't think so," he said, laughing in a way that had very little humor in it; surprising her yet again. Then he shifted, suddenly becoming serious, his mouth a hard line again as he asked, "Was Ron a good boy? Kept his hands to himself?"

She nodded and finally found her voice, knowing this was a question that would require a verbal response, "Yes, Trevor. He watched TV and I went to sleep. We barely even spoke to each other."

"Good," he said, his eyes darting down toward the rumpled fabric over her breasts and then back up to her face. His head jerked in a funny way as he did it and as his eyes met hers again she thought Trevor's face looked kind of...well, _twitchy_. "That's good. I didn't think he'd try anything but you never know. What do you say we get cleaned up while we wait for that moron to get back with our food, huh?"

Livia kept her mouth shut but gave a slight nod because that was what he seemed to want at the moment. She didn't like that strange, haunted stare in his eyes and instinctively she knew that any sign of defiance now would not be tolerated. In this weird, erratic mood of his he might decide to use that knife on her after all.

Then he was digging into his other pocket and pulling out a key. He unlocked the padlock that kept the chain secured around her ankle and pulled her to a standing position once she was free. He began to pull off her clothes and she didn't fight him; only stood there and let him undress her like a doll. When she was in her bra and panties she could feel him watching her and kept her head down, afraid to meet his eyes now.

But he gripped her chin again, smearing more blood on her, and raised her head so that she was looking directly at him. "Off with the rest of it," he said, still serious; those freaky eyes of his nearly bulging from their sockets. " _Now_."

She felt the tears coming back and bit her lip in an effort to hold them back. She unhooked her bra and let it fall from her; covering her breasts by crossing her arms.

When she didn't move to take off her panties Trevor said, "Mmm, well, we're halfway there. Come on. I said everything."

She hesitated and his eyebrows knotted together in annoyance. He reached down with his free hand and grabbed one side of her plain cotton underwear. He gave a yank and the fabric tore easily, splitting right down the seams and falling to the floor. Livia was crying again despite her efforts not to and Trevor was looking her up and down with hungry eyes.

"There we go," he whispered. "That's more like it."

The tears broke through and trickled down her cheeks until dripping off of the shelf of her jaw and landing on the tops of her quivering breasts. Livia could feel him looking her over, inspecting every inch of her, and her skin crawled with revulsion and fear. After a moment he pulled her arms away and let her breasts swing heavily down; the nipples so taut from the goosebumps on her skin that they were almost painful.

"I can't tell you how refreshing it is to see a pair of tits not stuffed with silicone for a change," he told her, that nasty grin slowly spreading on his face again as he chuckled softly to himself.

Then he was kicking off his boots and socks and unbuckling his pants. He slid them and his underwear down and she saw him naked for the first time. It wasn't a pretty sight. There were bruises and scrapes all over him in various stages of healing and old sweat and dirt grimed into the creases of his skin. Underneath the dirt and blood he was covered with strange tattoos (the boldest being the words 'FUCK COPS' in big, block letters curving above his stomach) and the hard length of his erection jutted out at her like an accusatory finger.

Trevor's smile never faltered as he grabbed her wrist in his big hand and dragged her into the bathroom with him. She stood by the sink as he leaned over to turn on the shower and then waited a minute until the water was running hot enough to steam. He stepped in and pulled her in with him, the heat swallowing her up and bringing the sweat out of her pores in an instant.

He washed himself quickly and vigorously, scrubbing and working the little bar of blue soap for all it was worth as the water turned red at their feet. When he was done he rinsed everything away and said, "Come here, Livia."

She let him wash her as well, trembling and crying silently as his hands ran over every inch of her. He tweaked her nipples a few times and swatted her ass once in a playful way, laughing as it jiggled, but otherwise he kept his mind on the task at hand even though his cock was still sticking out stiffly from his dark thatch of pubic hair. Then he washed both his thinning hair and her thicker locks with a bottle half-full of some cheap shampoo and conditioner combo that smelled like Pert but wasn't. His hands were almost soothing as they ran through the long tresses of her hair, gently untangling it, and for a moment it was almost like Paul was there with her instead of this frightening maniac. If she closed her eyes and let her mind drift it was actually almost a pleasant feeling.

When they were done Trevor shut off the water and stepped out with her. He grabbed a towel from the oddly placed rack high above the sink and tossed it at her before grabbing one for himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist and then there was a knock on the trailer door. Turning to her, he said, "Cover yourself."

Livia did as he asked; wrapping the ratty green towel around her chest and tucking the free end into itself under her left armpit. Once she was decent Trevor went to the door and unlocked it. When it opened Ron was standing there with a couple of pizza boxes in his hands and said, "Here, T. I hope this is okay because it's from the gas station. I didn't know what you wanted so -"

He tried to step into the trailer but Trevor snatched the boxes out of his hands with one hand and then placed the other against Ron's narrow chest, stopping him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, pushing him back hard enough to make Ron whimper. "That's great. Now fuck off before I decide you've outlived your usefulness."

Then Trevor slammed the door again and she could hear Ron's footsteps fading outside as Trevor locked the door once more. He turned back around to face her and, gesturing toward the table with the pizzas boxes balanced in one hand, he said, "Have a seat."

Livia went to the table and sat as he asked. He came to her and set the pizza boxes down in front of her, saying, "Bon appetit, my dear."

So she began to eat, tasting nothing, just chewing and swallowing mechanically; the food hitting her stomach like tiny stones. Trevor didn't eat, only watched, and when she offered him a piece he shook his head and said, "Not hungry right now. Not for that, anyway. Maybe later."

She tried to stretch it out as long as she could, the one piece of pizza she managed to force into her stomach growing smaller bite by bite, hoping that she could somehow delay the inevitable. But Trevor was impatient and when she took five minutes on one piece he snatched the boxes up again and tossed them unceremoniously into his fridge. She could hear his footsteps coming back to her and told herself that she could do this. She had to do this because if she didn't she would surely be dead soon. The only way home was to give this terrifying madman what he wanted.


	7. Chapter 7

Trevor pulled her to a standing position once again and then ripped the towel off of her body with a grunt of satisfaction. "Okay, no more waiting," he breathed, his eyes dancing with madness again as they met hers. "Come on."

He pulled on her hand but her feet were glued to the ground and refused to move; her resolve from only seconds ago completely gone now. Trevor growled in frustration and yanked on her hand harder, making her stumble and almost fall as he stepped in the direction of the open bedroom door. "I said _come on_!!"

Livia began to cry again and followed him, struggling to keep her footing and avoid being dragged. Once they reached the doorway he gripped her shoulders and shoved her in; toward a full-size bed that took up ninety percent of the cramped space between the walls. She fell on her side onto the stained and rumpled bedspread and tried to sit but Trevor was already climbing on top her; forcing her to turn over onto her back as he slid his narrow hips between her thighs and the bed creaked sharply under their weight. His hands caught both of her flailing hands and gripped her wrists so hard that she knew there would be bruises for days. He forced them above her head, pinning her to the bed, and brought her wrists together until he could hold them both with one hand. She struggled with all of her might to get free from his hold but he was far stronger than her, almost inhumanly so. He still pinned her down with ease; only smiling at her increasingly desperate efforts to free herself somehow.

"No!" she cried, squeezing her eyes shut tight, tight; her teeth revealed in a grimace of pain as his hand crushed her wrists in its grip. "Get off of me! P-please, Trevor!"

She heard him laugh as his free hand traced around her bellybutton and then up to her sternum with the tip of one finger. "You can beg and try to fight me all you want," he told her, his voice deep and full of that mean pleasure once again. "If you want to know the truth, I fucking love it. It's not going to stop me one bit. Also...we made a deal, remember? This is what you agreed to, precious."

Livia sobbed, feeling sick to her very soul because she knew it was the truth, and then he was leaning down to nuzzle against her throat. She could feel the stubble on his face scraping against her flesh like sandpaper and he nipped the skin over her carotid artery with his teeth, making her cry out in fear. Her struggles were slowing now, the decaying adrenaline leaving her limbs feeling leaden, and she lay there breathless; praying incoherently to God inside her head that someone or something would come and stop this. That Ron would return or his phone would ring or a bomb would fucking explode and kill them both. Anything, oh God, _anything_. It didn't matter to her, not then. Nothing mattered but ending this right now before it could go any further.

The hand not pinning her down gripped her right breast and began to knead as he nipped at her again and chuckled. "You're shaking like a leaf," he whispered into her ear, squeezing her tit again and again. "And we haven't even started yet. You're a real Nervous Nelly, aren't you? That's okay...I kinda like that, too."

Livia sobbed and he laughed some more as he shifted; letting his cock poke painfully into the lower part of her right buttock. He bent his head suddenly and took her left nipple into his mouth. He drew her nipple in as he began to suck, groaning and stabbing her even more urgently with his cock now. His mouth was wet and eager on her flesh and she gasped in surprise as he sucked harder. She held her breath and her eyes opened wide to see the water-stained ceiling above her as she felt a sudden stirring in her lower belly that was totally unexpected.

 _No, no, no_ , she repeated over and over in her head, her face flushing with color and her heart thundering in her ears as Trevor continued. _This isn't happening. This can't be fucking happening. It's just my imagination, it's gotta be._

But no matter how Livia tried to deny it, it was happening. Trevor sucked her nipple greedily while his hand continued massaging her other breast and she could feel heat slowly building in her lower belly. Despite all the fear and horror and pain, her body was responding to his attentions and she was left dumbstruck by it as the slim saddle between her thighs suddenly had a lot more moisture there than before.

Trevor finally raised his head and she looked over at him, her face bloodless and eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost over his shoulder. She saw his eyebrows come together in confusion and then he was looking down at the vulnerable place between her shivering thighs.

 _Oh shit, oh no_ , her brain stuttered at her, the panic all-consuming as his free hand reached down for the soft cleft at her center. She saw his dark eyes go wide as his finger slid slowly along the slit and gathered the wetness that had bled out during his efforts. The shock on his face was nearly total.

Trevor began to laugh and suddenly his eyes were on hers, wide and dancing gleefully again, "I knew it! I fucking _knew_ it! I took one look at you and thought to myself, 'Now there's a little lady who ain't getting it as often as she'd like'." The smile on his face widened, growing even more salacious as he dropped his voice into a conspirator's whisper and asked, "Or maybe just not as rough as you'd like. Is that it?"

Livia shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to see him anymore; her body shaking violently beneath him as his words caused shame to burn brightly inside of her. "No," she whispered, trying desperately to ignore him, her words almost a prayer. "Oh God, _no_."

"Oh God, _yes_!" Trevor returned, sounding halfway delirious with surprise and delight. "I knew there was something..." He let out an aggressive, growling laugh, "I _knew_ there was something special about you, Livia. Something just a little...different. This is going to be _so_ much better than I'd hoped for."

She began to cry again, feeling sick, but he only cackled wildly at this and suddenly his fingers were back at the slightly parted lips of her cunt again. He dipped two of them into her wetness without warning and she moaned at the feeling of her flesh welcoming him in eagerly. She cried harder, unable to believe how her body could betray her heart so utterly and with no clue whatsoever beforehand. _This is a nightmare_ , she thought in a last-ditch effort to save herself somehow. _This is a nightmare and soon I'll wake up and none of this will have happened. I'll be safe again and this will all cease to matter._

But it wasn't a nightmare. It was real. She could feel everything far too much for it to be anything but real; his hot breath washing over her goose-pimpled skin, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood rushing through her veins, and, most of all, Trevor on top of her and holding her down while forcing this horrible, humiliating act on her. She let out a helpless wail of despair and the tears came harder, scorching her cheeks and setting her whole body on fire with shame and disgust.

"That's right," Trevor crooned over her, drawing his fingers out only to push them back in slowly once more. "You let it aaalll out if you need to. Come on, crybaby. Let it all go."

"Please," she whispered between sobs, her breath hitching painfully in her chest as she tried to plead reason with the unreasonable. " _Please_ , Trevor..."

"Well, that's very nice and polite of you, isn't it?" He asked, enjoying every tear that rolled down her face as he continued to enthusiastically rub the velvety confines around his fingers. "Such a good girl." He chuckled thickly and whispered, "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. How does that sound, sweetheart?"

Livia sobbed and turned her head away; pressing her burning face into the soft flesh of her bicep and hiding from him the only way she possibly could. He kept torturing her with his hand for an endless moment and then suddenly pulled his fingers out of her with a groan. Trevor stuck his fingers in his mouth and then she could hear him noisily sucking off the wetness coating them with a sigh of approval. She felt him reach down and now he was shaking too as he took himself in hand; his excitement making him fumble a little before succeeding. She felt the tip of his cock prod around the place his fingers had just vacated and then he was pushing himself into her with a grunt of effort, already breathing heavily above her.

Livia gasped as he slid in all the way to the hilt, filling her completely, and then he was letting out a long, angry-sounding groan as his body began to shake helplessly over her. He braced himself on her wrists, her hands tingling from a lack of blood flow, and she could feel his cock twitching and throbbing inside of her as her muscles clenched around him and made him shudder even harder than before.

"Oh shit," he whispered, nearly panting now. "I almost came right there." He laughed breathlessly and she felt his free hand grip her chin and forcefully turn her head to face him once more. "Open your eyes," he told her. "Come on, darlin'. Look at me."

She obeyed, still leaking tears, and saw him looking down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkled up on each side as he smiled and sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down slowly. "I fucking love you," he told her; drinking in the sight of her tear-streaked face as greedily as a man in the desert who was dying of thirst. "Really, I do. You have no fucking idea how much I love you right now."

She let out a hollow moan and then he began to push harder into her, making it almost painful now as his cock stretched her to her limit. He growled and the easy smile on his face disappeared as he suddenly began pumping his hips up and down at a rapid pace; battering into her again and again as she gasped beneath him with every thrust. He fucked her fast and hard and she could feel her body responding to it with even more wetness; the pain lessening as the bed squeaked beneath them in time with each downward thrust of his hips.

Livia sobbed loudly beneath him as that unwanted, wretched pleasure unwound from her center and spread outward like ripples in a pond; her toes curling and hips bucking thoughtlessly. Trevor growled approvingly and grunted, "Thatta girl!"

Then his eyebrows were coming together in an expression of concentration as he watched her face, thrusting harder and harder. Livia cried and squirmed beneath him, the sensations she felt making her feel half-mad with disbelief and horror, but her unexplained desire never waned. If anything, it only grew more intense as time went on and Trevor's pace never stuttered or slowed even once as he panted above her; sweat dripping off of his reddened face and raining down on her periodically.

Suddenly he released her hands and she felt his cock pull out of her, followed by a slight trickle of her own juices. Her hands were dead, the flesh numb and blue, but she shoved against his chest and tried to roll away from him; wanting to get up and run. Run away and never look back, consequences be damned. He laughed at her attempt to get away and then he was roughly grabbing her shoulder in one iron-like hand and shoving her over onto her stomach. She kicked out at him once, a knee-jerk reaction, but he caught her leg and smacked the back of her thigh hard enough to leave a huge red mark in the shape of his hand. His other hand tangled in her hair and pulled for good measure, making her gasp as he quickly asserted control over her again.

"On your knees!" he barked at her, sounding somehow furious and pleased at the same time. When she did not immediately comply with this demand he twisted his hand and she howled in pain; her lips pressed into the mattress below her and muffling the cry.

"I said **_ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES!!!_** " Trevor screamed at her, his rage momentarily overtaking his pleasure once more.

Whimpering and pushing against the bed with her shaking arms for leverage, she slid her knees up under her belly and rose slowly; her backside presented to him in helpless offering. He gripped her hip with his free hand and positioned himself behind her; a near constant growling issuing from his sweaty chest as he readied himself. Then he was forcing his cock back into her and she screamed against the mattress, the angle making him feel even bigger as he sank all the way into her again.

"Ah, there we go," he sighed in contentment. "You know..." He shifted and let out a surprised noise. "I think you're getting tighter." He thrusted forward with a low groan and then chuckled, "Yeah, you're definitely clenching up now."

He was right, she was clenching up; her whole body tightening as if she could if she could somehow shut him out completely. There was quite a lot of pain but the slickness between her legs was even worse than before and he had no trouble at all as he began to slide his cock in and out of her again. This new angle was rubbing a spot inside of her that he hadn't hit so well before and the sensation made her moan in a lost and frightened way as her own desire intensified. Now the full weight of his balls slapped against the tiny pearl of her exposed clitoris as he picked up speed and resumed his frantic pace from before; his flesh stinging her slightly every time they made contact but simultaneously feeling wonderful. Livia cried harder than ever; her face pressed down so that the fabric beneath her soaked up every tear and muffled every sob that ripped from her heaving chest.

But Trevor didn't like that. He jerked on her hair, snapping her head up, and forcing her to cry openly as he grinned down at her. Eventually his grip loosened again and she lay her left cheek against the bed; sobbing in a wounded-sounding way and clutching the bedspread between her numb fingers as he continued to fuck her as hard as he could.

"I wanna hear you cry," he told her, his forward thrusts giving each word a grunt of emphasis. "Cry for Uncle T, babydoll. Oh, yeah, you cry so fucking sweet."

Livia did cry for him. She couldn't stop even if she'd wanted to. The strange mix of emotions churning through her demanded these tears; tearing something free from her that she had never known was there before. She could feel herself giving in slowly to him, finally relaxing and moaning hollowly as Trevor went on and on until she thought it would never end.

It felt good, that was the truth. No matter how she wanted to turn away and pretend that it wasn't; a part of her was enjoying this animal-like rutting just as much as the maniac behind her. It had never been this way with Paul. It had never felt like this, not exactly. Only when he was drunk and a little clumsy; when he didn't worry so much about hurting her. Paul had never been a man consumed by this kind of wanton, greedy lust. It was sick and disgusting and wrong, so very wrong, but even in the face of all this wrongness (or perhaps because of it?) as she gave in to Trevor she could feel herself slowly building toward orgasm.

Trevor felt the fight go out of her and released her hair, grabbing both of her hips in his hands now as she continued to moan and cry out the last of her innocence. She felt the intense, shaking pleasure of her climax begin running through her and shuddered helplessly, biting her lips so hard in an effort to keep quiet that she tasted blood. He realized what was happening and his fingertips dug in, hurting her and only heightening her orgasm as her clitoris stung and throbbed and her inner muscles spasmed around the thickness of his cock like a slick fist.

Before she could even begin to try and catch her breath, Livia felt Trevor suddenly cum as well. He let out a loud, gutteral moan and his body went rigid and very still as his cock began its throbbing and twitching within her. She felt his cum filling her with slowly spreading warmth as his moan trailed off into silence and weariness sank into her bones like sickness; leaving her feeling weak and light-headed.

She felt him pull out and then his semen was running out of her and dripping onto the bed below; making a puddle between her spread legs about the size of a quarter. She nearly screamed as Trevor gave her ass a hard spank, laughing maniacally, and then she was falling to the bed; covering the back of her head with her arms and crying harder than ever.


	8. Chapter 8

Livia awoke around noon and even before she opened her eyes her nose was crinkling in disgust at the smell that surrounded her. That nasty burning plastic funk was back and it was stronger than ever; so strong that every time she drew in a breath through her mouth she could taste it on her tongue. She covered her mouth and nose with one hand, feeling slightly nauseous, and turned to one side. As her eyes searched the room she realized that it was filled with smoke; layers of it shifting slowly in the air currents and highlighted by the dim sunshine bleeding through the drawn shade across the room from her.

She sat up, covering her naked breasts with one arm, and wiped sleep out of her eyes with her free hand. She sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth when she turned her hand too quickly and pain flared up in her wrist. Puzzled, she looked down to see the ugly blue/purple ring of bruises encircling her right wrist. Her left one looked much the same and at first she was still confused, turning her hands this way and that as her eyebrows drew together in an expression of concern. Then her face cleared as her blue eyes widened in shock, suddenly remembering how exactly those bruises had gotten there. Her cheeks flushed red with guilt and embarrassment as she remembered the intense pleasure she'd felt only hours ago and Livia hurriedly pushed that horrid memory aside; shoving it down into a vault deep within the darkest recesses of her mind. She told herself that it had never happened. None of it. It was just a bad dream that was over now and there was no need to let her mind wander into that frightening territory ever again.

Livia heard a light cough from somewhere outside the bedroom and got to her feet as silently as possible, wincing when the bed creaked once her weight was removed from it. She tiptoed over a pile of dirty clothes and pulled open the tiny stand-alone closet against the back wall near the foot of the bed. She grabbed the first thing she saw, a ragged grey T-shirt with a v-neck, and slipped it over her head; mostly covering her nakedness. Only then did she dare to poke her head out of the half-open bedroom door and peer into the rest of Trevor's tiny trailer.

She saw him sitting at the table, his face mostly obscured by a thick cloud of white smoke, and his head was tilted back with his eyes closed as if he were sleeping. Creeping forward on legs that now shook so hard she thought she might stumble, Livia left the bedroom and glanced at the closed door leading out of the trailer. The lock was engaged and Trevor was only feet away but she was so very close. All she had to do was reach over, grasp the lock with her shaking fingers and turn it ever so slightly. Then she could be out and down the street, finally free. She could leave this place behind and forget all about Trevor Philips and what may or may not have happened between them last night.

The floor creaked suddenly under her next forward step and she looked over to where he sat again; drawing in a sharp breath of fresh terror. His head was up now and his eyes were wide on hers. He hadn't been sleeping. He'd been waiting.

A hot flush ran through her and she only stood there for several seconds, trembling and thinking, _Oh fuck. Was he watching the whole time?_

Trevor turned his head sharply to one side as he stood up; a hard jerk that cracked his neck with a sound loud enough to make her cringe. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his arms a few times as if to loosen the muscles up and smiled at her, "Good morning, darlin'. I thought I'd have to come in there and jump on you before you'd get up." 

He stepped closer, only four feet away now, and she immediately recognized the look on his face. His staring eyes never seemed to blink and his pupils were so wide that they didn't look brown anymore but rather almost completely black. She saw all the same strange facial tics from last night and noticed that he was now slightly grinding his teeth together almost constantly. It was that twitchy, dangerous mood of his from yesterday but different; seemingly amplified far beyond what she'd already witnessed from him before. He looked like he was ready to pounce on her the moment she gave him the slightest reason to do so and her guts twisted painfully in anxiety.

Livia nervously glanced away from his dark eyes and over at the table where Trevor had been sitting moments ago. She saw a deck of cards laid out for a game of solitaire next to a huge black automatic pistol and several fully loaded magazines that were spread out haphazardly around it. There was also a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass as well as a pack of Redwood cigarettes and an ashtray overflowing with butts. Beyond that she spied a glass pipe with grayish-yellow residue clouding the formerly see-through bowl and a little plastic baggie full of some pale rock-like substance sitting off to one side of it. It looked as though he'd been up all night; still going strong while she'd been dead to the world for the last six hours or so.

After seeing the pipe and the little baggie, the strange chemical smell pervading the trailer finally made sense to her. He was doing drugs and, although she had little experience with them herself beyond smoking a little pot now and then as a teenager, she didn't have to be Sherlock fucking Holmes to figure out that all signs pointed to meth. Oh for fuck's sake, of course he was a speed freak. It just made too much sense. That was at least part of the reason for his wild, unpredictable behavior and whatever natural psychosis he'd already suffered from before smoking that horrible shit probably made up for all the rest of it. She could've laughed at her own naivete if she hadn't been so utterly terrified.

Trevor closed the distance between them by half, drawing her attention to him once more, and said, "I guess all that fun we had last night took a lot out of you." He gestured with one hand toward the pipe sitting on the table. "You wanna get lit? It's even better than coffee first thing in the morning."

She shook her head at this immediately, her eyes wide on his as her jaw locked with fear. _Oh please don't let him make me_ , she pleaded incoherently to who or whatever might be listening at the time. _I just want to go home. Please, just let me go home_. Trevor took another step in her direction and Livia took a step backward to compensate for it; now pressing her back fully against the wall next to the door as her heart hammered in her throat and her breathing constricted at his nearness.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his smile suddenly gone; his dark eyes searching her face as the right one twitched erratically. "You're..." He grunted and raised his hands, slowly squeezing his fingers shut until his hands were white-knuckled fists; the tendons and veins popping out in his neck and all down his tattooed arms. "You're all tensed up again."

He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer, and, knowing she could not lie convincingly enough, she told him the truth. "I'd like to go home now, Trevor," she said, finding it hard to draw enough air to continue speaking as she stared into those black shark-like eyes of his. "I...I did what you wanted. I held up my end of the deal so now you can let me go...right?"

Trevor only looked at her for a long moment, his hands still clenched into tight fists, and lowered his head slightly as he licked at the underside of his lower lip. She watched him, still clinging desperately to hope for an end to this, and when a cold, humorless smile slowly spread across his face she thought that the very sight of it might drive her mad.

"Who says you're going anywhere?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow at her. "Did I tell you that you could leave?"

Livia's eyes were wide on his, her face pale and terrified, "But...w-we had a deal."

Trevor nodded, his teeth bared in a biting grin as his stare continued to trap her eyes with his, "Oh, we still do...but we never specified exactly when I'd let you go, did we? 'After' could be any time. Could be today, could be tomorrow...next month, next year. Besides, the exact words you used were 'anything I wanted', isn't that right? Well, now I've decided what I want is for you to stick around a while longer."

"I...I can't," she said, panic overwhelming her at the thought of that trailer door staying closed to her forever. "I _have_ to go home. My husband, he'll...he'll be really worried about me."

"You can pretend I'm your husband," Trevor purred, stepping closer; enjoying himself again. "I'm sure I can worry about you just as well as he can."

Livia's head shook in negation, in horror, and as his hand reached out for her, her nerve finally broke and she lunged for the trailer door. Her hands were on the lock, grasping it between her thumb and index finger, but before she could draw her next breath Trevor was on her. He grabbed her left arm with one impossibly strong hand and bent it up against her back; forcing her wrist all the way up to the small space between her shoulder blades. She let out a high pitched shriek of pain as she felt something in her shoulder give and then he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her face into the door, muffling her cry.

"And after the things were going so well, too," Trevor growled laughingly into her ear. "Such a shame."

Gasping, tears running down her face as red-hot agony radiated out from her shoulder blade all the way down to her fingertips, she tried to plead with him, "Please, let me go! It...it _hurts_!"

"Does it?" he asked, yanking her arm up even higher and eliciting another shrill scream from her. "Just how bad does it hurt, sweet thing? Bad enough that you still feel like running?"

Livia began to cry in big watery sobs, her face cramped in on itself as she relinquished control to him and sagged against the door. "No, I d-don't," she told him through pain-clenched teeth. "Please, Trevor...I'm sorry." When his hand tightened on her arm, bending it so hard that she feared he might break it as the pain intensified to an even more unbearable level, she screamed, " _Please, just stop! Please, Trevor, oh God, I'm so fucking sorry_!!" This helpless beseeching for mercy was the only thing left to her now as she writhed in torment against the door; an exit so close and yet so far out of reach that it might as well have been on another planet right now.

He let her cry and wriggle against him for a minute, smiling as he pinned her trembling body between himself and the door. "You're a slow learner, Livia," he said, giving her head a hard shake, panting excitedly as he held his body against hers. "How many times am I going to have to remind you just who's in charge around here, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Trevor," she moaned, her voice almost unintelligible through her sobs, "I swear I'll stay, okay? I won't try to run! I - I'll do whatever you want, I swear I will!"

He grunted in her ear and suddenly the blinding pain was gone as he released her arm. She leaned against the door, her arm creaking like a rusty hinge as it fell back at her side, and continued crying as a feeling of hopelessness rose up and consumed her like a freak tidal wave; sweeping away everything else. She'd been so stupid to believe it could be that easy. Of course he wasn't going to let her go. She was going to die here at the hands of this drug-addled lunatic and she'd been a fool to believe that he'd ever had any intention of letting her go. She realized that she had been wrong before about one other thing as well. This wasn't a nightmare. This was hell.

Trevor watched her cry for a minute, his face shifting through a range of emotions from anger to lust to despair so rapidly that, had she been looking at him, she would've thought he resembled a man possessed. His hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder but his grip was almost gentle as he turned her around to face him again. He leaned down and suddenly he was hugging her; pressing her wet face into the hairy, sweaty chest above his faded black tank top and placing the shelf of his jaw on top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Sooner or later everyone abandons me," he told her as he rubbed her back in rough, slow circles with one big hand. Trevor's voice was soft and yet nevertheless still volatile; that never-ending rage boiling just under the surface, waiting to be tapped. "I'm tired of that happening to me over and over again. I like you and I want you to stay, Livia. I don't want you to leave me too...not when we've only just started to really get to know each other."

She only sobbed into his chest and said nothing as black despair continued to grip her heart with cold hands and throttle the last few rays of hope from it. She was never going to see home again. Despite all her hopes and prayers, she'd been dead the moment he'd laid eyes on her, that much was clear. Now it was just a question of how much time she had until the end.


	9. Chapter 9

Trevor told Livia to go get cleaned up and she did so, showering again and washing away all evidence of what they'd done the night before. When she was finished he threw some clothes at her and told her, "Get dressed, we have to be somewhere."

Happy not to be chained up again if nothing else, Livia obeyed him and put on a pair of his red jogging shorts and a white T-shirt that was three sizes too big for her but looked brand new. He gave her a pair of house shoes that also looked new and promised that he would find some other things for her at a later time. She didn't care, she was just glad to be fully covered again.

But when she met her own gaze in the badly cracked mirror that hung over his disgusting toilet she didn't even recognize herself. Bruised up on her face and throat and arms, huge dark circles under her eyes, lips puffy and cracked, hair unbrushed; she looked like she belonged in this shitty little trailer with this meth-smoking maniac. The Livia she was now and the Livia she had been before Trevor took her looked like two completely different people. Even if anyone was looking for her, their eyes would pass right over her, never suspecting.

After getting in his truck beside him, Trevor turned to her and said, "I probably don't need to remind you of this but...while we're out and about you shouldn't get any funny ideas, Livia. Keep your mouth shut and be a good girl for me because if you don't..." He lifted his shirt and showed her that now the big automatic pistol she'd seen earlier was stuffed into the front of his pants. "Things might get a little... _messy_. And you don't want anyone to get hurt, do you?"

She shook her head and he smiled, "Good. Let's get moving then. I have a feeling it's going to be a busy day."

He started up the truck and soon they were pulling away from the trailer. She felt the wind whipping her hair and raised her face into it with a sigh. It felt good to feel sunshine again, to see the clouds drifting across a sapphire blue sky, to smell fresh air. If she closed her eyes she could almost pretend that everything was okay again, that life has not been reduced to nothing more than survival and hoping that every second would not be her last.

But the ride didn't last long. Soon they were pulling up to a store with a huge sign outside proclaiming 'Ace Liquor' that was faded but still legible. The place was rundown and dingy just like everything else in Sandy Shores but there was a van parked outside that looked brand new underneath all the dirt coating it. Trevor pulled right up next to the doors and parked, pulling her along with him into the store while a couple of shabby-looking people loitering outside watched them pass with sullen eyes.

As soon as Trevor opened the door that bitter chemical smell assaulted her nose; making her eyes sting. She covered her mouth and nose with one hand as she looked around the store's interior. It wasn't a very big place; a couple of neon signs and posters advertising different things hanging up here and there, a few coolers on the wall farthest to her right, two or three shelves with bottles against the other walls, a few half-assed displays of cases of beer. Much like everything else she'd seen in Sandy Shores, it also looked like it was on its last legs. The tile on the floor was badly cracked and gouged in several places (in some spots there was no tile at all but rather just patches of exposed cement) and there were ceiling tiles missing above her head showing exposed wiring that hung down. Nothing looked as though it had been swept or mopped or dusted in quite some time and the walls were water stained and damaged. They might do some business here but it was mostly a front, she realized. The 'liquor store' was just there for appearances. From the smell surrounding her it was readily apparent that it wasn't alcohol the people came here for. 

Trevor took her past a counter with an unmanned register and pushed open a door leading to the back area marked **Private - No Entry**. There were more cases of beer and liquor stored here and some broken shelves against one wall. Through another door and around the corner and there was a set of stairs leading to the second floor. Still holding tightly to her wrist, Trevor led the way up to another room that was bare except for a few shelves holding old paint cans and tool boxes and a couple of canisters of propane gas sitting against one wall.

The next room was a little more furnished, a table and chairs as well as an old green refrigerator and a bare mattress on the floor against the corner next to the doorway. It was here that they came upon a chubby guy with short dark hair wearing protective goggles, black latex gloves and a green apron that looked as if it were made of rubber over his jeans and black T-shirt combo.

The man in the strange attire looked up from the beer clutched in his fist and said, "Trevor! You finally made it!"

Trevor's smile bloomed forth as he let go of Livia's wrist and spread his arms wide, "Chef! Good to see you! How's business?"

The chubby guy set his beer down on the old card table and frowned. "Not great if you want the truth," he replied. Then his eyes shifted to Livia and she looked away quickly. "Who's your friend?"

Trevor reached backward with one hand and gave her a hard smack on the ass, stinging her skin through the thin fabric of his jogging shorts and making her jump. "This is my new lady Livia," he told Chef, his voice thickening somewhat as his eyes crawled over her. "We're kinda going steady."

Trevor cackled at this and Chef gave a polite smile in response. "Okay then," he said, the smile rapidly fading as he looked back at Trevor. "First of all, some guys have been by here looking for you. They looked like members of The Lost; fucking black leather, handlebar moustaches, shitty tats, all that. I guess they heard about what happened with Johnny and the others and -"

"Fuck's sake," Trevor sighed, his own smile long gone now. "Does it ever end? How many of these assholes do I have to kill before they give up?"

"They looked serious," Chef insisted. "There was a big guy with them, some 'roid monkey with prison tats...they called him Duke or Deke or some shit. He told me they'd be back."

"That's a river we'll cross when the time calls for it, Chef my good man," Trevor said, clapping the chubby guy on the shoulder. "What else is going on?"

They began to talk more business and Livia let her mind drift out of the conversation. Eventually Trevor and Chef sat at the table and she sat on the bare mattress, hugging her knees against her chest and thinking about nothing in particular. After a little while Trevor broke this almost peaceful drifting by kneeling down in front of her with a bottle of water in one hand and something small lying in the palm of the other. Looking closer she saw that it was some kind of little white pill and immediately she shook her head at him.

"You're going to take it," he told her, his brow knotted together over eyes that still resembled the black stare of a hungry shark. "One way or the other. I'll cram it up your ass if I have to."

Livia tried to hold back her tears as she took the mystery pill from his hand and popped it into her mouth. She took the offered water and as she swallowed, Trevor said, "This won't hurt you, darlin'. It will help you relax...maybe you'll even sleep a little." She swallowed thickly, the pill seeming to stick in her throat before finally sliding down. Trevor smiled at her and took the bottle back, replacing the cap and setting it on the floor by her feet. "Either way I won't have to worry about you running off or doing something reckless while I'm trying to take care of a few things. It's better than being chained up, right?"

Livia nodded almost imperceptibly and then he leaned over to kiss her, his hand drifting up to grope at her left breast for the briefest moment before reluctantly pulling away again. He smiled at her again and then stood. He left the room and she sat there with her head on top of her knees, staring at the torn and hanging wallpaper to her right, trying to wipe away the feel of his kiss on her lips.

Not long after, maybe no more than half an hour, she felt the effects of whatever he'd given her kick in and things got a little... _weird_. The light seemed to be very bright coming through the window next to her and when she lifted her hand she saw tracers of all different colors following her every movement. Her perception of time slowed down to half its normal speed; making her feel as if every move she made were under water. She blinked slowly in the light a few times and then lay back, her body feeling as heavy as if it were weighed down by many stones gradually piling on top of her one by one.

Livia lay there, her mind a buzz of white noise that wasn't entirely unpleasant, and eventually her eyes slipped closed. Her body relaxed and her breathing deepened and soon she was lying there in a patch of sunshine passed out; the expression of fear and worry that had been on her face for the past two days finally smoothed out as thought left her entirely.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She came awake to the sound of somebody screaming. It went on and on and she opened her eyes to a darkened, unfamiliar room; utterly confused. She sat up and looked around, finally remembering where she had been when she passed out, and then there was a very loud gunshot from outside. The screaming stopped after the gunshot and she heard running footsteps coming up the stairs.

Livia stood from the bare mattress on the floor just as the footsteps came closer and then the chubby man, the one Trevor had called Chef, was there. He held a pump-action shotgun in his hands and when he saw her, the eyes behind his protective goggles went very wide.

"Come on," he said, letting go of the gun with one hand and grabbing her arm. "We gotta go."

The sound of several motorcycle engines starting up outside flooded the night and then Chef was dragging her through rooms containing tables topped with what looked like the world's biggest chemistry set and toward another door. Then they were pushing through to find themselves on the roof when gunfire suddenly erupted in front of the store; what sounded like at least a dozen different guns of all different calibers pouring lead into the dilapidated building. Livia heard glass shattering and men whooping and shouting out there but Chef was leading her toward a set of stairs leading down, away from much of the carnage.

Their feet stuttered madly on the stairs on the way down and Livia glanced over once to see Trevor's truck off to one side, the man himself sitting behind the wheel holding a very large automatic weapon in one hand. The sound of the truck's engine idling was drowned out by the sound of almost continuous gunfire and perhaps as many as a dozen much louder engines out front. She saw Trevor turn to look at them and then wave at them urgently with his free hand, his face a sweaty grimace of hate that glowed red in the light from the dashboard.

Chef brought her around to the passenger side of the truck just as a single headlight washed across the back of the Bodhi. There was the sudden crack of several gunshots and Livia heard them ricocheting off of the truck's tailgate. She ducked instinctively and then Chef was pushing her into the passenger seat as Trevor opened the door, leaned out, and returned fire.

Livia heard the man on the bike cry out in agony as several of Trevor's bullets found their mark and then Chef was slamming the door shut beside her. He also fired on the man with his shotgun and she heard the bike fall over with a crash. Trevor slammed the driver's side door again and then Chef was hauling himself over the bed of the truck, sitting down and holding his shotgun in both hands; watching their backs.

Trevor was just shifting into drive when there was a loud explosion and fire belched out of the upper windows; raining glass and burning debris down on them all. Several more headlights washed across the back of the truck and then Trevor was accelerating, crashing through a chain-like fence in front of them as Chef's shotgun boomed twice more and they raced away from the now blazing store. Livia heard a bullet whiz past her head, missing her by mere inches, and then Trevor was gripping the back of her neck and forcing her down as he continued to unerringly steer the truck with one hand.

"Jesus Christ!" he shouted, ducking a little himself as more bullets pinged off of the truck's frame around them. "Keep your goddamn head down before you lose it!"

The ride was getting bumpier and Livia held on for dear life as they hit something so hard that Chef nearly flew out of the back. Then they were racing across an open lot, skidding wildly on the sandy pebbles as Trevor's truck roared and the headlights of several bikes followed closely behind. The shotgun behind her boomed again and again and then Trevor was shouting at her, " _Take the fucking wheel!_ "

Terrified, her hands trembling, she did so; leaning across his lap and steering as he leaned out of the window and took aim. The loud _ratta-tatta_ of his machine gun sang in the night and she saw several of the headlights following them veer off soon after. She tried to somehow keep her head down and look over the wheel at the same time but it wasn't easy. She narrowly avoided hitting a metal guardrail and then they were turning onto open black top, the slightly shining surface of the highway stretching out into the wide expanse of desert before them.

Trevor slapped another clip into his gun, muttering to himself and breathing hard as the sour stench of his sweat mixed with the stink of burned gunpowder overpowered the cab of the Bodhi. He leaned out again just as the headlights turned onto the highway and she heard both him and Chef firing on the bikers; taking them down until there were only two left.

There were more shots hitting the back of Trevor's truck and then Chef cried out, "Fuck! Oh, _fuck_ , Trevor! I'm hit!"

She heard Trevor growling incoherently and then another burst of gunfire erupted from his hands, sending one of the remaining bikes skidding off of the road and into the metal guardrail; flipping its screaming passenger over the handlebars until he hit the ground with a final, brutal thud and was silenced. Livia let go of the wheel as Trevor sat back down and then she was ducking under the dashboard again as he gripped the wheel in one hand and looked into the rearview mirror at the last biker.

She saw the bike's headlight go around them and heard the sound of its engine growling louder as he began pulling up alongside them. Trevor watched him come, his teeth bared and dark eyes bulging as he rasped, "Come on, you greasy fuck. Come get me."

She glanced up and saw the top of someone's head pulling up beside Trevor. Then he jerked the wheel hard to the left and there were two loud bangs; one a gunshot and the other the sound of the Bodhi ramming the bike. Trevor suddenly cried out, victorious, as the biker flipped over the hood and for just a moment as he slid past her, Livia met his terrified eyes with her own. Then the biker gave a cry and fell off the side; hitting the road gracelessly and rolling a few times before finally coming to a stop.

Trevor let out another scream and threw his hand up in the air, his middle finger extended back at the dead man on the highway rapidly fading into the distance. "Missed me again, you sorry cocksuckers!" He laughed, a high-pitched, jarring sound that contrasted greatly with Chef's groans of pain behind her. "None of you bike riding assholes can shoot for shit!"

Then they were speeding off into the night as the wail of sirens raced toward the briskly burning liquor store. Livia watched the glow in the rearview mirror fade until it was gone, hardly able to believe that they were still alive.


	10. Chapter 10

Chef was still groaning and holding his belly as Trevor pulled off to the side of the road and finally came to a stop. He turned around to look back at Chef and asked, "How bad is it?"

He held up one trembling hand smeared with dark blood, "Bad. Maybe...I don't know, maybe mortal."

Trevor's fist smashed into the steering wheel, splitting two of his knuckles and letting off a brief honk as he growled, "God _damn_ those leather clad cunts!"

"Take me to the hospital," Chef said through lips that were nearly blue; his face so pale in the moonlight that she thought he might be on his way out at that very moment. "Please, Trevor. This hurts like you wouldn't fucking believe."

Livia chewed nervously on her fingernails and looked at Trevor again, worrying for Chef even though she knew literally nothing about the man other than the fact that he was employed by Trevor in his meth dealing and manufacturing business. She didn't want to see him die...no matter who his friends were. She'd seen more than enough of that for one night, thank you very much.

"Yeah, I'm sure it does," Trevor agreed, nodding as his face cramped in genuine concern at Chef's plea for help. "Of course I'll take you to the hospital. Hang tight and we'll get you there soon. Just...don't go dying on me, okay?"

"Wasn't planning on it," Chef returned, giving a weak laugh before moaning in pain once more.

Then Trevor was shifting back into drive and once again they were back on the road and racing toward the bright lights of Los Santos, gradually leaving the desert behind them.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thanks to Trevor's lead foot and light traffic, it only took them forty five minutes before they were pulling up outside of the ER entrance of Central Los Santos Medical Center. Both Trevor and Livia had to help Chef out of the back of Trevor's truck because he was too weak from blood loss for his legs to fully support him any longer. As EMTs came to help put the weakened, groaning man on top of the gurney they'd brought with them, Trevor raised his hand and said, "We found this guy on the side of the road like this. Looked like he needed some help." As Chef's weight was taken from their shoulders he added, "Yeah so, you know, there's no need to question the good Samaritans. We'll be on our way now."

Then he was grabbing her hand and running back to the truck with her. They hopped in and drove off, leaving the badly hurt Chef in more capable hands than theirs. As they sped through a red light and headed past the darkened buildings surrounding them Livia finally found the courage to speak to Trevor again.

"Why did those bikers do that?" she asked, spotting some of Chef's blood on the back of her wrist and hurriedly trying to wipe it away. "Why were there so many of them?"

Trevor shrugged, "Well, I may have sort of...retired their entire chapter in Sandy Shores a while back. We had a few disagreements, some guys got their heads stomped in, some guys were shot, some of their homes may or may not have exploded during the wake for their dead buddies...you know, that kind of thing."

Livia shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing, "This is insane. _You're_ insane."

Trevor turned to look at her for a moment and said, "The whole fucking world is insane, sweetheart. I'm just doing my part to fit in."

Livia ignored him, spotting more blood on her left knee and trying to wipe that away as well; her mouth turned down into a grimace of disgust. Trevor continued driving for a moment and then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He managed to pull up his contact list, find who he wanted and dial the number without wrecking into several cars but it was a close thing. He held the phone to his ear for a few minutes and finally said, "Hey, Frank. How's it hanging?"

He paused for a moment and then, "That's great. Listen, I need a place to crash for a couple of days. Some things got out of hand and I can't go back home or to the club right now." Another pause. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine. Okay. Thanks, Franklin. You're a good kid."

He disconnected the call and turned to Livia once more as he put his phone back into his pocket, "We're going to crash at a friend of mine's old place for a little while. You ever been to Forum Drive?"

She shook her head at this. She wasn't even sure she knew where Forum Drive was. "I live in Vespucci Beach," she told him. "Paul and I've been there nearly seven years."

Trevor snorted laughter, seeming awfully jolly for a man still covered in his employee's blood. "I stayed in Vespucci Beach a few months ago," he said, shaking his head now. "Imagine that. We were practically neighbors for a little while."

Livia said nothing, only looked out of her window as the city continued passing by them a block at a time. When they reached a red light they pulled up next to an LSPD patrol car and Livia began to look over until Trevor's hand gripped her knee in one rough hand. The truck sat idling next to the black and white vehicle and, in a low voice, he said, " _Don't look over at them. Don't do anything. Be still and quiet and everything will be fine_."

Livia thought of the automatic weapon on the floorboard between his feet as well as the pistol stuffed into his pants and Chef's shotgun stashed under the seat. Even if by some miracle she was able to signal the cops next to her, Trevor would be able to mow them all down with relative ease. So, seeing no other choice, she only sat there, Trevor's hand squeezing her knee so hard that it hurt, her hands together in her lap and her eyes turned up to the red light glowing above them. 

After an endless moment the light finally changed to green and they were through the intersection, the LSPD car turning left and heading down the other way. She heard Trevor release a pent-up breath and then he said, "You did good, Livia. Just like I asked."

She also said nothing to this, only bowed her head and looked at her hands. _Just stay alive_ , she told herself. _That's all I have to do. Stay alive as long as it takes and when I finally see the right opportunity then I'll go for it.The time will come if I'm patient. If I'm patient and quiet and obedient he probably won't even see it coming_.

But somehow, deep down, she didn't really believe any of it. She wouldn't unless it actually happened.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

They were in the ghetto now, a part of the city Livia didn't think she'd ever seen before. Forum Drive was a curving street full of old shabby houses, liquor stores and a big white church with a tall steeple. There were still several people walking the streets even at two in the morning and Livia saw that most of them looked like prostitutes, drug dealers or homeless folks. 

Trevor pulled into the brick driveway of a brown one story house and stopped in front of the garage. He hopped out of the truck and came around to let her out. She followed him to the front door and then he dug into a hanging flower pot on their right. He fished out a key and then unlocked the door, leading her into a modest home with a blue rug on the floor and three closed doors on the left and two open doorways as well as one big set of double doors on the right. Trevor closed the door behind them and locked it, reaching over to turn on a little lamp sitting on top of a closed cupboard on their left.

"This is my boy Franklin's house," Trevor told her, his eyes searching around a moment before resting on her face. "His aunt Denise used to live here but she passed away two months ago from colon cancer. I hear it's a gruesome way to go."

Livia said nothing to this and Trevor didn't seem to require any kind of response anyway as he took her hand in his and led her to the living room. Stepping through the first doorway leading in, he said, "We won't have to be here long. Just a few days until...well, hopefully when things die down back home."

Livia sat on the couch when he prompted her to and he leaned over to turn on another lamp sitting on an end table next to her. Bright light sprang forth and filled the living room. She saw the weird picture hanging above the mantle of what had once been a brick fireplace; a pyramid with an eye floating above it, reminiscent of the image on the back of dollar bills. She thought in a distracted sort of way that this Denise lady must've been into all that new age, self-help bullshit...not that it had done her any good in the end.

Trevor left her sitting on the couch and went past the dining room with its sad little table pushed up against one wall and into a kitchen that was bigger than hers but only just. He pulled open the refrigerator door and grimaced. "Nothing but beer. We'll have to get some groceries tomorrow." He rummaged around in one of the top cabinets and whistled appreciatively, "Here we go." 

Livia watched him pull out a bottle of Scotch that was half full and present it to her, "How about a little firewater for us proud braves?"

She shrugged and then he was turning away and digging through another cabinet for glasses. He came back to her with the bottle and two glasses that had once been jelly jars; the kind with the screw top lid. He sat down on the old blue-striped couch with her and set the glasses on the coffee table before them. He poured about an inch of Scotch into both glasses and then handed her one. She took hers in one shot and Trevor did the same. She shuddered as fire burned all the way from her chest cavity and into her belly, gasping for air as the alcohol took her breath away and made her eyes water.

Trevor didn't seem to react to the Scotch at all, only let out a satisfied sigh and licked his lips. "Not bad," he remarked, shrugging one shoulder. "Not the best but not entirely terrible, either."

Livia nodded, staying silent as she put her own glass down next to his. Trevor immediately began pouring both of them another shot but when he tried to hand it to her she lifted her hands and shook her head. She didn't know what had been in the pill he'd given her the previous afternoon or if any of it was still lingering in her system now. As usual, she thought it was best to err on the side of caution.

But Trevor didn't want to accept this. He grunted disagreeably and thrust the jar forcefully into her hand. "Drink it," he told her, all trace of ease and good humor suddenly absent from his voice. " _Now_."

She took a deep breath and then folded her hand around the curved glass side once more. This shot went down smoother than the last but it still had quite a bit of sting to it, causing her to cough a little before catching her breath. 

Trevor snatched her glass up and poured her another shot. He placed it back into her hand and said, "Again."

Livia downed the third shot and now her head began to spin. After nothing in her stomach all day other than a pill and single bottle of water, the liquor hit her like a freight train. Suddenly her head was dizzy and bright lines blurred her vision. She was aware of Trevor pouring himself another shot and gulping it down before forcing another on her. The fourth shot was the straw that broke the camel's back and she leaned against the back of the couch, trying to keep her head from spinning.

She felt Trevor's hand slide up under her shirt and then he was gripping her left breast in one calloused hand. She tried to push his hand away, now feeling nauseous as well as dizzy, but he was not so easily deterred. His hand gripped her tender flesh even harder and she moaned, "No, Trevor...please..."

But he ignored this and she felt his other hand begin slipping under the waistband of the jogging shorts she wore. She gasped as the tip of one of his fingers suddenly brushed against her clitoris and then she was trying harder than ever to push him away. "Stop!" she cried, the haze of alcohol clouding her brain making her forget that none of it would help her or slow Trevor in the least. " _Get the fuck away from me_!"

She heard his snarl of fury and then he was savagely gripping her hair in one hand, twisting it and causing her to wail. "You wanna fight?" he asked, sounding excited and angry at the same time. "We can fight. Go ahead. Give me your best shot, you bitch."

Livia didn't think, only reacted, and slapped him across the face; a hard crack that left the palm of her hand stinging afterward. She tried to pull away when his hand momentarily loosened in her hair as his mouth dropped open in surprise but, unfortunately for her, he reacted to her instantly and his hand clamped down before twisting even harder; drawing forth another cry of pain from her stretched throat. 

"You hit pretty hard for a woman," he told her, almost sounding approving as he shook her head back and forth like a terrier with a rat caught in its jaws. "Didn't expect that from a meek little thing like you."

The tears came again as Trevor's hand twisted and twisted, making her writhe slowly in pain; the liquor only having dulled it the tiniest bit. "Please," she said, her voice breathless and hitching with a sob as she continued. "Please stop, Trevor. I'm sorry."

She heard him laugh but it was joyless and cold; a dead laugh if she'd ever heard one. "Back to being polite so soon?" he chided, his lips spread in a wide grin as the shape of her hand stood out on his cheek like a brand. "Come on, precious. I like to see a little fight in you now and then. It keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

"I'm _sorry_ , Trevor," she repeated, unable to think of anything else that might earn her a little reprieve from the hand tugging mercilessly at her hair.

"Don't be," he told her. "I'm still pissed about what happened to Chef and my business tonight. This is the perfect outlet for some of my anger. I should be thanking you, Livia. It'll be just the thing I need to forget...for a little while anyway."

Livia cried out as Trevor's hand tightened in her hair even more as he stood suddenly. He pulled her up with him and she reeled on her feet, the agony in her scalp and the alcohol combining to make her very unsteady. "Come on," Trevor whispered to her, his face pressed so close to hers that she could trace every line and scar and crease on his face with her eyes if she wanted to. "Let's have some more fun, eh?"

Then he was laughing wildly again and jerking her toward the open doorway, ignoring her cries or pleas for mercy.


	11. Chapter 11

Trevor dragged her out of the living room and down the hall to the right, pulling her along by the thick sheaf of her hair. She began to cry in earnest as he brought her into a bedroom with a neatly made bed and more hippy-dippy pictures on the walls. He whipped his arm around and flung her onto the bed with a grunt. Before she could even cry out she felt his hands ripping the jogging shorts from her body in one brutal motion and leaving her completely naked from the waist down.

She began to turn over, instinctively trying to resist what was about to happen, but Trevor didn't give her a chance. He shoved her back down into the mattress, muting her cries of fear, and spread her knees apart with one of his own. She kneeled on the bed, face down with her ass raised unprotected up in the air, and heard his belt unbuckling and his zipper going down. She then heard the quiet jingle of his pants hitting the floor and tried once more to rise up on her elbows. Trevor grunted in amusement and swept her shaking arms out from under her; her face once again forced to press down against the mattress. She felt him grab her wrists and begin forcing them behind her back and she struggled harder, turning her head to one side and screaming, "No! No, Trevor! Please, don't do this!"

"Shhhh," he scolded. He finally succeeded in restraining her arms by gripping both of her wrists in one big hand and holding them against the small of her back as he asked, "Do you want someone to hear you? What will the neighbors think?"

Then he was laughing at her just as much as at his own joke and her tears burned on their way down her reddening face. It was going to happen again, she knew. He was going to rape her and make her feel all the same horror, disgust, guilt and shame she'd felt the last time and the alcohol he'd forced on her had only served to make her even easier prey than before. She rarely drank, perhaps a glass of red wine once a month, so those four shots had robbed her of most of her strength; making her limbs too loose and shaky to be of much use to her now. She probably couldn't have resisted much even if he hadn't been pinning her arms behind her back.

Knowing she was trapped, the sobs began again and she bemoaned the fact that there would be no release from this torment. This was not a dream she could wake up from nor a fairy tale in which a kindly knight would ride in on a shining steed just in time to save her. She was on her own and she was the only one who could save her life. Unfortunately for her, however, her continued survival would require her to endure this same humiliation as many times as the madman behind her saw fit; killing more and more of the woman she had been a single agonized piece at a time.

But as Trevor spit on his hand and slathered it over her undefended anus, she suddenly realized that it wasn't going to be the same as last time. No. It was going to be much, much worse.

She strained her neck to look back at him, her face once again pallid and unbelieving. "N-no, don't!" she pleaded; horror-stricken at this unexpected development. "Please, Trevor!"

He smiled down at her, his voice low and almost musical as he spoke, "I love it when you beg me, have I told you that?"

Then he was pushing half of his rock-hard length into her without warning and she weakly screamed as a wave of unbelievable pain sank into her at the same instant. Gasping and squeezing her eyes shut so tight that she saw white stars flashing across her vision, Livia heard him groan and felt him drive his cock into her even further, causing the pain to sink deeper as well. He sighed in pleasure and she felt his free hand lie along the curve of her hip, his touch soft and caressing as his flesh throbbed in perfect sync with her pain.

"I knew you'd be tight," he told her, sounding as if he were smiling again. "Something in the way you walk, you know?"

After a long moment in which the agony seemed to grow unbearable, it finally reached its peak and Livia felt it start to ebb in slow increments; each pulse becoming just a little less painful than the one before it. "Trevor," she tried once more, her anguished voice still muffled a bit by the bed beneath the right side of her face. "Trevor, _please_. Stop this."

He chuckled and his hand continued to rub along her hip until it slipped down to her lower belly. "You're okay," he consoled her, his tone as indulgent as if he were speaking to a child with a skinned knee. "You're doing fine, Livia. In fact, you know, I think I can feel you relaxing already."

He was right. She didn't know if it was the whiskey he'd forced on her or if she were just growing used to having something jammed up there but the pain had faded so much that it was now almost gone entirely. As his fingers slid across her mound and touched the tiny bud of her clitoris again Livia felt a sudden, unexpected twinge of pleasure there. She gasped and desperately twitched away from him; trying to avoid his hand as her face burned with shame that flared much brighter in her heart than it had before.

"Don't," she told him. Then, sobbing and begging him, "Please!"

She could hear the amusement in Trevor's voice as he found that special spot again and asked, "Don't what? Don't do this?"

Then his finger pressed down and began to rub in slow circles, making her wriggle helplessly beneath him. He gave his sadistic laugh again and she squeezed her eyes shut as the pleasure from his fingers caused her to feel his cock inside of her in an entirely different way. Now it wasn't painful at all as she felt it slide out a little before slipping back in again. It felt good inside her; like this was what was supposed to happen all along. She tried to fight it, to tell herself that it was only her imagination, but despite all of her desperate denials and wishing to change it, she felt the fold between her thighs begin to grow damp as he continued to gently stroke her clit.

Trevor's left hand was gripping her wrists tighter than ever, digging his fingers into the bruises that were already there; making her cry out in pain even as the wetness between her legs began to leak out and trickle down her thighs. Somehow the pleasure and pain were blending together and becoming something indistinguishable from one another; a new breed of feeling that was much stronger mixed together like this than they had ever been one at a time. She moaned beneath him and then turned her head to muffle it into the bedspread, hoping to hide her sudden enjoyment from Trevor somehow. But, as she had learned on that first day with him, he was a very perceptive man and he understood what was going on with her almost immediately.

"Why don't you just admit that you like it when I fuck you?" he asked in an unsteady voice, fighting to remain still and let her provide all the motion on his rigid cock as he continued stroking the little button between her legs. "There's nothing wrong with liking it."

Livia could've told him a thousand reasons why there was something wrong with it. Why it was wrong and disgusting and soul-crushingly shameful and made her feel like she was slowly dying on the inside. But, rather than give him even one of these reasons, she tried again to deny that it was happening at all. "Trevor, for the love of God," she wept, her chest aching from the sobs that ripped out from where they were buried deep inside her. "Just stop!"

Trevor grunted out a laugh at this and then he was slowly pulling out of her; making her cry even harder as his fingers never ceased their maddeningly pleasurable rubbing. He pushed back in again before suddenly letting out an angry-sounding groan and beginning to fuck her with brutal downward thrusts; forcing her face to press deep into the soft surface of the mattress again and again. She moaned, a hollow and frightened sound, and then he was slipping his fingers down to touch the wet cleft just below where they were already joined.

As his fingers slid along the slippery skin he found there he murmured, "See? What did I tell you?" He slipped a finger into her aching sex and she cried out loudly, shuddering as his cock continued stabbing into her only an inch away. "Oh, that's nice," he chuckled, his voice thick and heady with desire as he probed further inside of her twitching warmth with his rough finger. "You like that just as much as I do, don't you?"

She was finding it hard to catch her breath now but she answered him honestly, "Please, Trevor. I - I don't want this."

"Maybe," he agreed, slipping his middle finger in alongside the first one and forcing them slowly in and out of her cunt as his cock relentlessly slipped in and out of her ass at a much faster pace. "But it seems like it's exactly what you needed, darlin'. You just didn't know it before now."

Livia closed her eyes, her head still spinning from the Scotch, and tried to ignore the extreme sense of fullness within her. But, no matter how she tried, she couldn't make it stop feeling better with every passing moment. Nothing had ever felt quite like this before. Paul certainly never would've even thought to try this, and had she ever briefly entertained the idea, she never would've expected to find any real pleasure in it for herself. It was brand new, this strange sensation, and soon it was overwhelming her; snapping the already thin thread of her resistance as easily as if it were made of gossamer. She gave up the fight and let Trevor use her; crying and moaning helplessly as her body accepted even more of his flesh within her.

"I knew you'd come around," he breathed, sounding triumphant and greedy with lust. "You can't help yourself, can you? You fucking love this, go ahead and admit it. You're just as fucked up as I am."

Livia's only response was another wretched moan as all coherent thought left her and she totally gave in to him. It wasn't long until she felt the pleasure in her middle cycling up and up, reaching a crescendo that made her cry out again as she clamped down on him and rode the rising wave of ecstasy rushing through her. Even though it was perhaps the best climax of her life, she was still crying throughout the entirety of these intense feelings; her eyes rolling back in her head and huge tears running down her face. Her body shook and her toes curled as the last of her orgasm ran it's course, causing Trevor to moan long and loud behind her as he threw his head back and let it loll bonelessly against his broad shoulders. He let out an odd, choked sound as if he were the one experiencing pain and she felt his cock begin to convulse; slowly pumping his cum into her as he let out a long drawn out groan of satisfaction and shuddered violently. She was still coming down from her own high and it was as if Trevor's orgasm would never end; perhaps lasting as long as a full minute before he slowly withdrew his hand and hips from her. 

When he finally released his vice-like grip on her wrists Livia wilted back down onto the bed and tried to somehow turn her reeling mind back toward thought and reason once again. Her body shivered uncontrollably as if in aftershock and Trevor collapsed on the bed beside her. He wrapped one sweaty arm around her back and pulled her close enough to drape one hairy leg over the back of one of her much smoother ones. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and this unprovoked act of tenderness right after such brutality left her shaking all the harder as she pressed her face into the mattress and cried bitter, shame-filled tears.

"I've screwed my fair share of people in life," he confided to her, his breathing still uneven and shaky. "But that was, hands down, the best piece of ass I've ever had. The absolute fucking best, I swear it."

Then he began to laugh and Livia tried to tune it out in the hopes of preserving her last remaining shred of sanity. _Just stay alive and keep breathing for as long as you can,_ she told herself, the cold voice in her head only bearing a passing resemblance to her own. _Nothing else matters anymore_.


	12. Chapter 12

Livia came awake late the next morning to the sound of someone pounding on the front door. She sat up on the bed, once again disoriented by her unfamiliar surroundings, until she heard Trevor's voice going down the hall and moving away from her.

"Yeah, yeah," he growled as his heavy footsteps marked his progress toward the door. "Jesus, hold the fuck on! I'm coming!"

She wiped sleep out of her eyes with one hand and heard the front door unlock before pulling open. She heard the unmistakable rustling sound of plastic bags rubbing against one another and then a man's voice speaking so loudly he could've been in the very same room as her rather than all the way down the hall.

"Hey, crazy old dude! What's good?!"

Trevor responded in a much quieter tone as Livia got off of the bed and found the red jogging shorts she'd been wearing last night crumpled up on the floor. She tugged them on as footsteps came down the hallway toward her and she had just finished slipping her shoes back on when Trevor's head poked through the open door to check on her.

"You're awake," he said, giving an approving nod. "Great. Come on."

Then he was gone and she moved for the door after him. As she poked her own head out she saw his back disappearing around the corner leading to the dining room. She followed, only sparing a single longing glance at the closed door at the end of the hall; the way out. When she came into the dining room from the kitchen she saw the owner of the loud voice; a tall, skinny African American man standing beside Trevor. A sort of goofy looking guy with one of those naturally funny faces that made him look more like a caricature of a 'tough guy' than the real deal. He must have felt her eyes on him because after a moment he turned and saw her as well. He reacted like someone who had suddenly seen a ghost standing there rather than a dishevelled woman in dirty clothes; jumping and raising his hands to chest level as if to ward off a blow.

After his initial shock, he looked her up and down as his eyebrows came together above dark brown eyes; his surprise gradually morphing into a look of concern as he saw the bruises on her face and wrists. "Damn, girl," he said, reaching up to grasp the bill of his green baseball hat with one hand and shift it on his head a bit. "What corner of hell did you crawl out of? I mean, I'm not trying to be an asshole or nothin' but you look like you got _fucked up_ by somebody."

Trevor turned around to see her, stepping away from the dining room table and momentarily leaving the plastic bag that he'd been digging through to sit next to the rest of the plastic grocery sacks piled there. He came forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her further into the room as the newcomer watched her progress with that concerned look still plastered on his goofy face.

"This is Livia," Trevor explained through gritted teeth, pulling out one of the little wooden chairs around the table for her. "And you better watch how you talk to her, goddamn it. You're going to treat her with respect or we're gonna have all kinds of fucking problems."

The younger man raised his hands again, this time in a 'you mean me?' gesture, and shook his head, "I, shit, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean nothin' by it. It's just, uh...kind of surprising. I didn't expect some chick to just be hanging out with 'mad dog' Trevor, you feel me?"

Trevor grunted irritably and scratched at his crotch for a moment, "Yeah, well, shit changes, Lamar." 

He returned to digging through the plastic sacks for a long moment and then she could feel Lamar's eyes resting on her again. If she had looked bad yesterday morning she must look twice as horrible today. What did Lamar see before him? A white woman at least ten years his senior who looked like she'd been ridden hard and put away wet. She was bruised and dirty and she hadn't seen a toothbrush or hairbrush in days. She probably looked like a drug addict...one who belonged with a raging lunatic like Trevor. If she'd been this young black man she probably would've been wondering what ditch he'd found her in too.

But Trevor broke into her thoughts by turning back to Lamar and saying, "This is all fine. It'll do for now...but where's that other thing I asked you to get? Do you have it on you?"

Lamar started a little again, perhaps jarred out of his own train of thought, and patted his long black T-shirt and then the pockets of his baggy green chinos. He dug into his left front pocket and then pulled out a little baggie full of some cloudy, rock-like substance.

 _More meth,_ Livia thought, her heart sinking at the sight of that little baggie. _Oh fucking boy._

"LD always comes through, rain or shine. But...this wasn't exactly easy to get," he told Trevor, bouncing the tied baggie in the palm of one hand as his oversized, gaudy watch rattled on his wrist. "Boys 'round here don't fuck with this speed shit, generally speaking. I had to make contact with some shady-ass skinheads in East Vinewood. Motherfuckas had me gettin' nervous, thinking they might try to jack a nigga."

Trevor snatched the baggie out of Lamar's hand and stuffed it into the pocket of his own faded brown work pants. Then he dug his wallet out of his other pocket and pulled out a few bills. He handed them over without even counting them, "This should cover the cost along with any undue anxiety you may have felt at the time of purchase."

Lamar did count the bills, however, and as he realized just how much Trevor had given him he nodded; a smile lifting one corner of his mouth. "Hey, anything else you need just give your boy a call, crazy dude. LD ain't above running some errands for the right price," he told Trevor, stuffing the money into his pocket. Then he sniffed suddenly and rubbed a finger under his nose as he turned his eyes toward Livia again. "So, uh, you two planning on being here for a while or what? I only ask 'cause I don't know how Franklin would like y'all smoking that speed shit up in his house. I mean, he don't live here no more but, you know, it's the principle of the matter. This place has sentimental attachments for him and shit."

Trevor grunted sourly, "I'll open a fucking window." He jerked a thumb in Livia's direction and added, "She doesn't partake so, you know, no worries there." 

She looked up at Lamar to see him eyeing her curiously again as Trevor began digging in another bag and pulling out canned goods and other supplies. She thought Lamar might ask more about her, try to figure out what the fuck was going on, but apparently he didn't seem to think it was a good idea and kept his mouth shut. Maybe he wasn't quite as dumb as he looked.

He turned back to Trevor and said, "So, uh, anyway...unless there's something else you want me to do for you, I mean, I'm 'bout to head out. Gotta get back to hustlin' and shit. You know how it is, right?"

Trevor nodded at this and then lifted one finger beside his head as if suddenly remembering something important. "Actually, there is one more thing," he told him, turning to face Lamar again. "I need you to go collect my dear friend Wade for me. He's at the Vanilla Unicorn and, in light of recent events, it's probably not the safest place for him right now. I'd hate for something untoward to happen to him on my account. Get him, bring him back here and I'll give you double what I already put in your pocket. How's that strike you, my young financially-challenged friend?"

Lamar's uneasy grin grew into a more genuine one and he said, "Bet on it. I'll be right back with this Wade nigga. Don't y'all go anywhere, okay?"

Trevor nodded again and waved one hand dismissively at him. Lamar practically bounced out of the room after this exchange; the long chain around his neck swinging as he ducked around the corner and out of sight. She heard his light footsteps all the way to the door and then the sound of it slamming shut again.

Trevor pulled out more groceries, stacking them haphazardly on the table, and finally turned to regard her with narrowed brown eyes. He held a box of cheap off-brand cereal in one hand and an equally cheap box of off-brand macaroni and cheese in his other. "You know how to cook?" He asked, gesturing toward the pile of groceries. "I can make a mean stew now and then but I'm the only one who ever seems to like my cooking. What about you?"

Livia nodded, glad that she would not disappoint and possibly anger him. "Yes, I can cook," she told him almost shyly. "I...I don't want to brag but I've gotten more than a few compliments on it.

"Wonderful," he said, cracking a smile for the first time that morning as he tossed the boxes in his hands carelessly back on the table. "Show me what you can do, then."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia was in the middle of frying a couple of pork chops (Trevor's choice, not hers) when there was another loud knock at the door. Trevor, sitting at the dining room table with the shotgun beside him as he watched her cook and hit his pipe occasionally, merely threw back his head and yelled, "It's open!"

She heard Lamar long before she saw him enter the kitchen. "We back, Trevor!" he called in his too-loud voice. "I got your boy just like you asked!"

Trevor stood from the table and turned to greet Lamar and the other guy walking in behind him. As Livia looked at the Caucasian guy sporting brownish-blonde dreads, several facial piercings, gauges in his ears and a Fatal Incursion jersey, she immediately got the sense that he wasn't all there. Not because of the way he was dressed but it was something about his eyes, maybe. They looked almost as blank and empty as if it were a doll's eyes staring out of his narrow face.

"Hey there, Wade!" Trevor said as he reached out to put a fatherly arm around the younger man's shoulders in a half hug. "How've you been?"

"Hey, Trevor," Wade said, his speech bearing a heavy lisp that make him sound child-like as he hugged Trevor back with more enthusiasm than he'd been shown. "I - I been okay, I guess. Missed you and Ron and everyone else in Sandy Shores, though." A hopeful look spread across his face and the naked trust in his eyes when he looked at the madman hugging him was further evidence that this guy wasn't playing with a full deck. "Are we going back home soon?"

Trevor pulled back and shot a glance at Livia who still stood by the stove with a greasy pair of tongs in one hand, "What? Didn't you like the club? The ladies kept you entertained, right?"

Wade nodded, "Yeah, Trevor, they did. They tried...but all they ever wanted to do was dance and take their clothes off. They never wanted to play games or tell stories or anything. They were pretty nice and all but the music there gave me a headache. I asked them a million times to play something different but they never did." He sighed as if remembering something vaguely unpleasant, "I didn't like sleeping on those couches in there, either. Sometimes they was...sticky."

"Well, uh, we can't go back just yet," Trevor told him with an easy smile. "But we will soon, I promise. And I always keep my promises, don't I, Wade?"

"Yeah, you do," Wade said, nodding again. Then his eyebrows came together in a look of mild confusion as he went on. "But...Trevor, I tried to call Floyd a bunch of times and he never answered. Neither did Debra. One time this guy answered...he said his name was, um, Detective Sumper...or Summer...or something. He told me Floyd and Debra had 'passed on'. Said they was part of a 'homicide investigation'." Livia saw the look of surprise register on Trevor's face at this before Wade continued rambling, completely oblivious. "He asked me who I was and all kinds of things so I just hung up on him even though he seemed nice. He called me back a few times but I didn't answer. I know you told me not to ever talk to the cops, Trevor, so I hung up as soon as I knew he was one."

Trevor's smile was gone now, replaced by a coldly speculative look that sent a shiver up her spine, and his arm tightened around Wade's shoulders. She could see the fear in Wade's eyes slowly creeping up to replace his perpetually puzzled expression as he realized something was wrong. The poor guy clearly had no idea what the hell was going on even at the best of times and Livia's stomach began to twist into knots of concern for this daffy stranger. What would she do if Trevor tried to hurt him? What _could_ she do?

"What exactly did you tell him, Wade?" Trevor asked, his voice gruff and no longer ingratiating in the least; his dark eyes narrowed and intense. "Did you tell him anything about me?"

"N-no, Trevor," Wade answered, shaking his head, his eyes bigger and shinier than ever. "I swear. I didn't even tell him what my name was."

Trevor's smile returned but there was nothing kind in it now. It was his predatory grin...but this Wade guy might not know that. "Fine," he said, patting his shoulder in an awkward gesture of goodwill before finally releasing him. "That's fine. I believe you, Wade. You did good."

Wade smiled back at him but the fear was still evident in his eyes. He knew he'd done something to upset Trevor but he didn't know what. He probably couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Trevor suddenly turned away from him and went to where Lamar was standing awaiting payment. He dug some cash out of his pocket and handed it over. "Here," he said in a distracted way, his face still cold and closed off as if he were thinking hard about something. "For collecting Wade."

Lamar counted the money before placing it in his own pocket. "Alright, cool," he said, seeming satisfied even though he wasn't smiling this time. "But hey, crazy dude, check it. Before I go there's probably something you should know. There were some greasy looking leather-wearing motherfuckas posting up inside and asking questions about you. Looked like they just got there so I got to your boy before they did but...I had to do some ninja hiding-in-the-shadows type shit and go out the back way. One of your bouncers tried to stop us and motherfucka got laid out."

Trevor nodded and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "Okay. Probably Joey. I'm sure that fucking idiot had it coming anyway. Don't worry about it."

Lamar nodded, "Alright. Look, I'll see you later, Trevor." He headed for the door as he said, "Remember to give LD a call if you need anything. Always looking to add to my fat stacks, you feel me?"

Then he was gone and it was just the three of them. After a long moment that was silent except for the meat sizzling in the pan before her, Wade finally seemed to notice her for the first time. He approached her with a hand held out. "Hi," he said, smiling a little. "I'm Wade."

Livia looked at Trevor and saw that he was sitting down at the table again. He fiddled with his pipe and his face twitched in that demonic way of his but he didn't seem to be paying any attention to them at all. She took that as a good sign and grasped Wade's hand with her free one, "Hi, I'm Livia. Nice to meet you, Wade."

Wade's smile grew as he shook her hand a few times and said, "You're pretty. Say...I didn't know Trevor had a girlfriend. Lamar said you two were shacking up."

She only looked at him for a long moment, thunderstruck. "I'm not...I mean..." She sputtered, dropping his hand and clutching at the collar of the shirt she wore.

Then she glanced over at Trevor once again and saw that now he was paying very close attention; his brow creased in a look that could quickly shift toward real anger at any given moment. 

"Uh, y-yeah," she said, swallowing thickly as she looked away from him and back at Wade; trying a smile that fell flat almost instantly. "I'm Trevor's girlfriend."


	13. Chapter 13

After finishing their meal Trevor got a call from Ron that sent him into another seething rage. Livia didn't understand what was going on exactly but she gathered that it had something to do with the bikers who were after him, an airstrip in Sandy Shores and a partner of his named Oscar Guzman. More 'business' problems, apparently.

Wade and Livia watched him pace across the threadbare carpet and listened to him curse and threaten Ron until she could hear him nearly screaming, "I'm sorry, T! I'm sorry! I tried, Trevor!" Ron's voice was faint but the fear and guilt in his tone came in crystal clear. Trevor, unmollified, only berated him more before finally disconnecting the call. As soon as he did he searched through his contacts until he found who he wanted to talk to next.

"Hey, Lamar. You free?" He asked, still pacing, pacing; his free hand clenching at his side as he worked himself up further and further into the red mist. "Oh...I see. Is this 'fine ass girl' going to pay you for the privilege to fuck her? No? Well, I am." He stopped mid-step for a moment as if replaying what he'd just said in his head and added, "Err, uh, not to fuck anyone, of course. But I _am_ paying you to help me."

He listened a moment and his next words came through tightly clenched teeth, "An hour? Well, forget it then. Maybe I'll just find some other two-bit hood around here to pay a shit ton of money for almost nothing."

Another pause, then, "Okay, homie. Now we're on the same page. Get over here and bring that thing we talked about." He listened again. "No, not _that_. I meant the -"

Trevor glanced over at Livia and then walked further away, entering the kitchen now as he muttered something unintelligible into the phone behind one hand. She heard him grumble his approval at whatever Lamar responded with and then, "Okey-dokey, my lanky friend. I'll see you momentarily."

Livia sat next to Wade on the faded blue-striped couch and felt her stomach begin to do nervous somersaults; the pork chop and the roasted potatoes that she'd eaten less than half an hour ago churning inside of her middle like an overloaded washing machine. She watched Trevor pace and clench his fists over and over again in that terrifying way of his until every muscle and vein stood out clearly on his arms and shoulders beneath the dark ink of his weird tattoos. As he did he growled almost constantly to himself about leather chap wearing fucking assholes and how he was going to put them all in the ground. How he was going to make the streets run red with their greasy blood and that people would need waders just to step out of their homes. And on and on and on.

 _What did he ask Lamar to bring?_ she wondered, twisting her hands together anxiously in her lap. _Why did he look in my direction like that?_ Trevor was not a secretive man by nature, not as far as she could tell anyway, but he wanted to hide this from her. Livia knew there wasn't a chance in hell that it would be a pleasant surprise, whatever it was.

Ten minutes later and Lamar was knocking on the door. Wade let him in and when she saw the black doctor's bag in his hand, her fear made her stomach begin to hurt ten times worse; twisting and cramping and rolling around inside of her. Lamar wouldn't look at her, she noticed. In fact, it seemed he did everything in his power to avoid her gaze. He wouldn't look up any higher than her knees and he kept his mouth uncharacteristically shut.

When Trevor set the bag on the coffee table in front of her and began to dig through it, she asked, "Trevor?"

He looked up at her, his dark eyes narrowed in irritation, "What?"

Gathering what was left of her courage, she said, "Don't do this."

He looked away and began to dig again, "Do what? Do fucking _what_? You don't even know what I'm doing, Livia."

Licking her lips and glancing at Lamar and then Wade, both of them now avoiding her gaze, she said, "You don't have to drug me. I won't run...I - I won't do anything. I'll stay right here and wait for you to come back, I promise."

His eyes flicked back in her direction but it was only for the briefest moment, his brow creased even more heavily than before. "Well, isn't that nice? Unnecessary...but nice all the same. "

The tears were coming again and she fought against them, not wanting to anger him or make things worse for herself. "Please, Trevor," she said, her voice as steady as she could keep it. 

" _PlEaSe, TrEvOr_ ," he mocked in a high-pitched, whiney voice. " _DoN't, TrEvOr! I'm SoRrY, TrEvOr_." Then, using his normal voice again, "Do you have any idea how annoying you can be sometimes? Like a broken fucking record. We don't have time for this shit so quit your belly-aching and stick out your arm for me or I'll get these two to hold you down and do it anyway."

When he came toward her holding a hypodermic needle loaded with some clear substance she gave in and didn't fight what was coming. There was no point. She obediently held out her arm and let him tie it off above the elbow with a length of rubber banding, never saying a word. He told her to make a fist and squeeze a few times so she did. After a moment he nodded to himself, carefully felt the bulging vein in the center of her inner elbow with his calloused fingertips, and finally stuck the needle into her with a practiced hand. Somehow she managed not to cry out as he did so; wincing only a little as he untied the rubber banding, depressed the plunger and shot the contents of the needle straight into her bloodstream.

Within seconds of him pulling the needle out of her arm she felt the drug begin to course through her. Coldness flooded her veins and she shivered as she leaned back against the couch, her limbs suddenly feeling much heavier than they'd been before. Moments later and her head was already buzzing like it had when he'd forced the pill on her and she could feel herself slowly stepping across planes of perception and into that land of endless white static once more. It wasn't a welcome feeling but she didn't have a choice and, if nothing else, at least it took her to a place where nothing could hurt or scare her for a little while.

After a few long moments in which the drug settled deeper into her, she looked up at Trevor standing over her and saw him looking back down at her. "What was in it?" she asked, her words seeming to come out slow, slurred and with great difficulty; struggling to keep her eyes open as her eyelids began to feel as if there were weights attached to them. "Was it heroin? Or...mmm....maybe cyanide?" She barked sudden, jagged laughter at this and realized in her slow way that she was high. No, not just high but fucking _sailing_. Whatever he'd given her had been strong enough to rob her of any desire to move at all.

Even as angry as he was, Trevor grunted his amusement at this and when he spoke his words seemed to float down to her on a wave of shifting light from the TV behind him, "Don't worry, darlin'. You'll be fine. It's plain ol' morphine. So just relax, watch some TV and hang out here with Wade, okay? He's a goofy fucker, I'm sure he'll keep you entertained while I'm gone."

Livia rolled her eyes away from his and shrugged, "Fine." She sighed and settled back further into the couch, letting the old, worn cushion embrace her like a waiting lover.

Trevor leaned down, bringing his face close to hers so that they were now eye to eye. "Be good," he warned. "I'll be back soon."

He kissed her and she turned her head away from its warmth; a faint expression of discomfort pinching her features. Then he was gone, Lamar hurrying out the door with him, and she was left alone with Wade.

She sat there beside him watching TV for a while and fighting the urge to sleep; so stoned that she could hardly think straight. When Wade began hitting the loaded pipe Trevor had left for him Livia hardly even noticed. He eventually offered it to her but she declined with a scowl and a shake of her head, waving her hands in a warding off gesture for good measure.

Turning to look at him with eyes that could barely focus on his gaunt face, she asked, "Why do you smoke that stuff? It's bad for you. Don't you know that?"

Wade looked over at her and his eyebrows came together in a puzzled expression. "Bad?" he asked, turning the pipe in his hand and examining it as if he'd never seen it before. "What's bad about it?"

Livia snorted laughter and shook her head, " _Everything_ is bad about it. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You could pass for the fucking Vinewood Zombie. That shit's probably turning your brain into Swiss cheese."

Wade's frown deepened and he set the pipe down on the coffee table; thick smoke still curling out of it from one end. "Trevor told me that it's all right," he said, speaking slowly as if he were working everything out in his head while talking. "He said it's the smart drug. That it would help me be like him."

Livia cocked an eyebrow at him, "And that's something that seems like a good idea to you?"

Wade looked away and scratched at a tiny sore on his cheek, "Trevor's okay. He's not all bad. He...he might get really mad at me and hurt me sometimes but he's my friend. He took me in when my other friends left me all alone in Sandy Shores. He's the only person who ever really cared for me, he says...and it's true. Even my cousin Floyd and his girlfriend Debra stopped answering their phones after a while. Then they went and got themselves killed and now Trevor and Ron are the only friends I have left."

"Trevor lied to you. He killed your cousin and his girlfriend," she told him, not noticing his shocked expression as the finality of her words struck him like a bowling ball in the gut. "You know that, don't you? You can't possibly be that stupid."

Wade's eyes were huge on hers as he whispered, "T-Trevor did?"

She nodded, blinking at him and still fighting to stay awake, "Of course he did, Wade. I wasn't there, I never met your cousin Floyd or this Debra lady, but I _know_ he killed them. Why would he ask if that detective knew about him if he hadn't done it?"

"No," Wade said, shaking his head. "He - he couldn't...he told me that they...they..."

Livia gave him a pitying look and said nothing.

Wade turned away from her and held his head in his hands, his voice hollow and wavering as he spoke, "Oh my _God_. Cousin Floyd...Debra...Kush Chronic...Daisy Bell...h-he killed them all, didn't he?"

"Yeah, probably," she said, placing a hand on his scrawny back in an attempt to provide some comfort even in her semi-lucid state. "Your buddy Trevor is one sick bastard. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you."

Wade began to cry then and Livia forced herself to sit up; wrapping one arm around his back in an awkward hug. She shushed him and held him for a moment before he turned toward her and clutched at her with blind hands; his face running with tears and snot as it cramped in pain and sorrow. She let him lean his head on her shoulder like a tired child and patted his back as he cried, trying her best to console him. His sobs were hoarse and sounded like they were ripping out of his middle and she felt tears of sympathy fill her own eyes as he let it all out. Even as stoned as she was, she could feel the depth of his pain and it made her hurt for him. It didn't matter that she didn't know him. He was like her, she understood. He was just another one of Trevor's many, many victims. 

They held each other for a long time and she cradled his skinny frame against her chest as his tears bled through the dirty shirt she wore. She stroked the tangled mass of dreads on his head and said, "It's going to be alright. Shhhh. There, there, now."

She lay back with him and let her eyes slip closed as his sobbing eventually quieted. Within minutes she was out cold, floating on the morphine still running through her veins down to a dark place where there was no sorrow or pain.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia came awake hours later to feel something shove against her right shoulder and the sound of Trevor's voice soon followed, "Wake up, sleepyhead."

She opened her eyes to see him standing over her with his pistol in one hand, pointing the barrel off somewhere just to her left. She gasped in shock and looked over to see Wade still leaning against her with his scrawny arms wrapped around her middle. He was blinking at Trevor, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water as he looked down the barrel of a 9mm aimed right between his eyes.

"Wade, Wade, Wade," Trevor said, his mouth stretched into a cruel, hateful grin that showed nearly every tooth in his head. "Even as dumb as you are I thought you'd know better."

Wade's arms slipped away from her and he tried to sit up, "T-Trevor, I -"

The butt of the 9mm smashed into Wade's nose and he squawked in pain as blood burst forth and rained down onto the front of his jersey. Trevor's free hand reached down to grasp a wad of his dirty dreads and then he was placing the barrel of the gun against his cheek; directly below his right eye.

"You think you can try to move in on my woman while I'm away?" he asked, tightening his hand in Wade's hair as he pressed the barrel into his cheek harder and harder. "You think I'm going to let some clown paint wearing fucking imbecile do that? Really?"

"Trevor, I wasn't doing nothing, I swear," Wade said, his terror regressing him into a child-like whimpering as blood poured freely over his mouth and chin. "I - I never-"

Trevor's roar made Livia almost piss herself in fear, " ** _DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!!!_** "

She saw Trevor's finger slowly tightening on the trigger and knew she had to stop him before Wade ended up dead. "Don't do it!" she cried out, her hands flying up to the collar of her shirt and clutching it desperately with hands that felt so numb that they might as well not even belong to her anymore. "Please, Trevor! Don't hurt him!"

Trevor's eyes turned to regard her and then the barrel of the 9mm was pointed at her, stopping her heart in her chest for a moment before it began to beat again in triple-time. "Did you let him do it?" he asked, his eyes narrowed and full of dark suspicion. "Or did he just take advantage of the situation? Which one was it, darlin'? Hurry up, the clock is ticking."

Her eyes were so wide that the whites could be seen all around the ocean blue of her irises. "W-what?" she whispered.

Trevor's smile curdled and he leaned closer, the barrel of the gun never wavering. Amazingly, she thought she saw the shine of tears in his nearly black eyes. "Livia, be straight with me now," he growled, poking her in the chest with the barrel of the gun to punctuate his words. "Did you let him? Did you _let_ him do it?!?"

Finding it hard to take enough air in to speak as her eyes blurred with tears, she whispered, "Wade didn't do anything. Whatever you think happened...it didn't. I swear to God it didn't. Please, don't fucking shoot me, Trevor."

Something in his expression changed as the barrel of the gun suddenly sagged away from her and he released Wade's hair at the same time. He stood, stuffed the gun into the front of his pants and walked away without another word; heading for the kitchen. Livia sat up amid the sound of Wade's muffled cries of pain, confused and scared. She didn't know what to do, she was so frightened that she shook hard enough to make her teeth nearly chatter together, but she stood and followed him halfway; ending up standing next to the dining room table.

"Trevor?"

She watched him stop and turn to his right, facing the refrigerator. He stood there a moment as still as a statue, his face blank, and then he lunged at it headfirst; ramming the top of his head into the freezer door as hard as he could as magnets popped off of the surface and landed on the floor all around him. Livia let out a choked cry of alarm, her hands flying up to her face like startled birds, and then he did it again. Trevor's head hit even harder this time; the top of his skull connecting with the freezer door so violently that she could see it dent inward beneath him. He let out a bellowing roar of hurt and anger and began ramming his head into it over and over again; in a complete frenzy now as that dent grew deeper and deeper.

"What are you doing?!" she yelled, sprinting forward and grabbing his sweaty shoulder; stopping him before he could ram his head into it yet again. "Trevor, _stop_!!"

He wheeled around to face her, blood sheeting down his madly contorted face from a split in the center of his forehead. She released him and took a step backward at the deadly glare of his dark eyes as they settled on hers. 

"What do you fucking care?!" he screamed at her, the tears standing in his eyes readily apparent now even through his seething rage. "You don't fucking care! No one does! _No one gives a fuck about me!!!_ "

He turned away and rammed his head into the freezer door one last time, leaving a wide smear of blood in the center of the huge dent. Livia grabbed him again and then she wrapped her arms around him from behind; encircling his narrow waist and preventing him from doing it anymore. She could feel the butt of his gun just below her hands but she didn't reach for it. She didn't even think about it.

"No more, okay?" She murmured, closing her eyes and holding him tight; still scared to death and doing the only thing she could think of to make him quit this madness. "Don't do that."

Trevor became very still in her embrace and after a long moment she felt his arms come up to cover hers. He was breathing hard, nearly panting, and he stunk of sweat and blood and burnt plastic but she pressed her face into his back harder anyway. She wasn't thinking about what she was doing. If she had she might have reconsidered stopping him in the hopes of letting him knock himself out so she could flee in the meantime. But it was not in her nature to be so cold-blooded and she reacted on instinct; treating him just the same as she would anyone else who did something like that in front of her.

"I'm all alone, Livia," Trevor told her, his voice as hollow and empty as a corpse who had suddenly gained the ability to speak again. "I've been that way for a long time. So long that by now you'd think I'd be used to it." He sighed and she felt his hands begin squeezing hers. "You'll run first chance you get, huh? And when you do I'll be alone again."

Livia clutched him tighter and shook her head even though she knew he was right. When she saw her way out she would run and never look back. What other choice did she have? He was a maniac, a sadist, a rapist and most likely a serial killer to boot. What kind of looney would voluntarily stay with him? It would be the same as signing her own death warrant.

"I won't run," she told him, her voice surprisingly calm as the lie rolled off of her tongue. "I promised you that I wouldn't, didn't I? I'll stay with you as long as you want me to, Trevor. I swear I will."


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey," Trevor said, cocking his head to one side. "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" Livia asked, releasing him and stepping back.

Trevor remained very still, his head tilting even further to the right, and she listened but heard nothing other than the sound of Wade's muted sniffles and sobs. Then, a second later, and she did. It was sort of a buzzing, growling noise; like a swarm of very angry, very large bees. It grew louder and just before Trevor grabbed her wrist she finally recognized that sound for what it really was. It wasn't a swarm of bees. It was the sound of motorcycle engines, a great many of them, and they were approaching fast.

" _Wade_!!!" Trevor screamed, already pulling Livia toward the back door. " _Out the back_!!!"

She heard Wade stand and unquestioningly begin to follow as Trevor grabbed the shotgun from where it lay on the kitchen counter. Just as he joined them at the back door she heard the engines outside cease, filling the night with sudden silence. Trevor pushed open the door with a grunt and led them outside as gunfire erupted in front of the house. Glass shattered as every single window facing the street blew inward at the same time and she thought she heard the television implode but Trevor was already pulling her away; out of the kitchen and into the tiny backyard.

Only a few running steps took them to a low concrete wall separating the house and the alleyway. Trevor let go of her hand to vault over and land the seven feet or so below. Livia ducked as the gunfire pouring into the front of the house continued, ringing her ears, and then she was going over the wall as well. Trevor caught her before she could hit the ground, setting her gently on her feet off to one side, and then Wade went over as well; landing with a cry of pain as he fell on his boney ass. Trevor grabbed her hand again and they ran forward, through the graffiti-covered area between a low, one story brick building and a car wash. Wade trailed closely behind them despite his fall, rubbing at his ass and still snuffling blood through his now crooked nose.

The house behind them continued to take the brunt of the bikers' assault and they emerged onto the street untouched. Trevor didn't hesitate, only took them directly to the line of cars parked waiting at the red light before them. Livia heard police sirens rise in the night and then Trevor was letting go of her hand to yank open the passenger door of a rusty old Albany Emperor. She heard the man behind the wheel let out a cry of surprise and then Trevor was pointing the business end of the shotgun in his face as he slid into the passenger seat.

" ** _OUT! NOW!_** " he roared, his finger already on the trigger in case the driver wanted to balk at his demand.

The young black man wasn't stupid, however, and couldn't seem to reach for the door handle fast enough. "Sure, bro," he said, nodding fervently and raising his other hand to show he meant no harm. "Take the piece of shit. It's yours." Once he was out he immediately took off running down the street; skinny arms and legs pumping like an Olympic runner going for the gold.

Trevor slid over into the driver's seat and then his bulging brown eyes landed on Livia. "What are you waiting for? A golden invitation?!" he snarled at her. " _Get your ass in_!!"

Livia obeyed him without thought, dropping into the passenger seat as Wade pulled open the door behind her and jumped into the back. The gunfire pouring into Franklin's dead aunt's house finally began to taper off just as the sirens grew closer and Trevor tramped on the gas pedal. Black smoke belched out of the tailpipe as the rust bucket launched forward, barely missing the back bumper of a white SUV as they swerved around it, and then they were running the red light and hanging a hard left.

Livia looked out of the passenger window and saw buildings speeding past so fast that they were only a blur. Within moments they were running yet another red light and shooting past the intersection; narrowly avoiding a collision with three different cars. She held on for dear life as Trevor put the ancient Albany's engine to the test and soon the sound of sirens were fading in the distance. She waited and waited but she didn't see any bikes following them as they raced down the streets of Los Santos. It seemed like they had escaped Forum Drive just in the knick of time thanks to Trevor's preternatural hearing. If he hadn't been the cause of so much of her current misery she could've almost kissed the son of a bitch.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

An hour later found them at a shady looking motel called 'Star-Lite Inn' on the east side of Los Santos. Livia sat on the bed with Wade helping him put a makeshift ice pack on his busted nose. Trevor was only a few feet away, standing at the mirror over the little sink and tending to the injury in his forehead.

She noticed the purple-black bruises puffing up under both of Wade's eyes before the plastic baggie wrapped in a hand towel settled over his upturned face and said, "I think it's broken."

"How can you tell?" he asked, blinking at her over the scratchy white fabric.

Livia looked away and shrugged, uncomfortable, "I, uh, I just know what it looks like."

"How? Are you a nurse?"

She shook her head and looked over at him once more, not realizing that Trevor was paying attention to her as well now. She reached up with two hands and flattened the skin under her eyes, stretching it taut over her nose and showing him the subtle crookedness in the bridge of it. "I know from experience," she said, letting him have a good long look before releasing and letting the springiness of her flesh cover the slight flaw again. "Your nose is probably never going to be the same once it heals. Any slight tap will send you straight to your knees and it, uh....well, it breaks a lot easier the second time around."

"How'd your nose get broken?" Wade asked, interested even though she knew he must be in quite a bit of pain at the moment. "Did you get in a lot of fights?"

She shrugged noncommittally, "I guess you could say that. They were usually pretty one-sided, though. I can take a punch but I'm not much of a fighter. Not when the person is twice my size, anyway."

"What happened?" Wade asked. He reminded her of a little kid, so full of questions. "Would you tell me? I like stories, even if they are scary ones."

Livia opened her mouth to say no but then Trevor turned around to look at her and she bit her lips against the reply.

Most of the crusted blood had been cleaned away from his haggard face but the injury to his forehead looked raw and painful. He'd taken off his shirt to clean away the blood and wore only his stained pants and work boots; the smell of sour sweat and dirt emanating from him so strongly that it almost made her eyes water. On the surface Trevor appeared to be a bit calmer now after his ranting and raving inside of the car on their way here but the look in his eyes hadn't changed much. They were still as bright, alert and crazy as they had ever been. It would take a lot more than a few hard knocks or a few pissed off bikers to throw him off for long, it seemed.

"Yeah, darlin'," Trevor said, his tone light but obviously just as intrigued as Wade. "Tell us what happened."

He came closer to her and she shifted uncomfortably. "It's nothing," she said, shaking her head again. "You don't want to hear about that. Let's just forget I said anything."

"Aw, come on. Tell us," he said, spreading his hands in a 'what gives?' gesture. "It'll give me a reason to put off calling Franklin and telling him the bad news for a little while." When she still hesitated he said, "Let's just pretend it's story time at the library. We're good listeners, aren't we, Wade?"

"Yeah," Wade agreed, nodding and almost losing his ice pack.

She cleared her throat and shook her head, "That's - that's kind of personal. I'd rather not."

"Haven't we gotten pretty 'personal' already?" Trevor asked, smiling faintly. "I mean, me being balls deep in you is pretty fucking personal, right?" 

Livia's eyes darted away from his and she felt her cheeks begin to grow warm with shame once more. "I don't know," she said, now rubbing her hands anxiously along the outside of her thighs. "I never told anybody except Paul about any of that before."

"Now you gotta tell us," Trevor said, sitting down next to her on the right side of the bed and drawing her gaze back to him. "Spit it out already, sweetheart. Don't keep us in suspense."

Livia bit her lip and rubbed her hands along her legs harder, feeling the tension working up into her neck and shoulders again. She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to even think about it. She'd already spent most of her life trying not to think about it so it was hard to switch gears and force herself to remember again. She didn't even understand why they were so interested.

"My brother broke it when I was ten," she blurted, returning to staring at that spot on the carpet between her feet. "Punched me in the nose."

All trace of humor left Trevor's countenance as he leaned forward and cocked his head at her, "Your brother?"

"Yes," she answered and tried to leave it at that.

"Why did he do that?" Wade asked.

Trevor nodded in approval at Wade's question and pointed in his direction, "Yeah, good question, Wade."

"It doesn't matter," she tried, still hoping that they would drop it and leave her be. "Really. It doesn't. It was a long time ago."

Trevor sighed in exasperation and said, "Good Lord above, it's like pulling teeth. Just fucking tell us already, would you?"

Livia realized that she was rubbing her legs harder and harder and made herself stop. She folded her arms over her chest and looked on either side of her; first at Wade and then at Trevor again. "Derek was...well, he was pretty fucked in the head," she explained, trying to find the right words to describe the person who had played the biggest role in making her entire childhood a living hell. "He had a lot of problems. Kinda like -"

Horrified, she shut her mouth with a snap. She'd almost said, 'Kinda like you do, Trevor.'

They waited, watching her closely, and she cleared her throat again before continuing, "Anyway, he beat the shit out of me a lot. Broke my nose twice, dislocated my jaw, made me piss blood and choked me out more times than I can count...that kind of thing. He's three years older than me and a hell of a lot bigger so any time I tried to fight back you can imagine how that turned out."

"Where was your mom and dad?" Wade asked, clearly puzzled. "Didn't they help you?"

She continued to look down at that spot on the floor between her feet and slowly shook her head, "No."

"Why not?" Trevor prodded. 

Livia looked over at him and now the tears were coming, making her shake uncontrollably as she answered his question with one of her own, "What do you want me to say? That my parents were almost as bad as he was?" Her voice wavered as the words began to pour out faster and faster; rushing out of her with all the unpredictability of a flash flood. "Well, they were, okay? They were drunks and on-again/off-again drug addicts who were more concerned with having a good time than they were with their own children. I mean, they both beat me pretty regular too so what were a few more bruises to them, really? We were white trash and that kind of shit is pretty normal for us, as far as I understand it. Hell, I should've been grateful that the man who molested me at the ripe old age of eleven was my father's friend instead of my father himself. Guess I can count myself lucky there, huh?" Her stomach began to twist painfully again at the memories she was dredging up all at once; overwhelming her with feelings she had denied and repressed for most of her life. As her stomach rebelled against her even worse than before, she felt as though she might vomit. Wiping her dripping face with the palm of one hand, she gave a weak, humorless laugh, "You want to know the truth, Trevor? They were a lot like you. Being around you is almost like going home again. Sometimes I feel like I've known you all my life."

Trevor's hand reached out for her and she flinched away from it. Suddenly standing from the bed, she cried, " _Don't fucking touch me_!"

Livia ran from their prying eyes and headed straight for the bathroom as her stomach clenched one final time in warning. Her legs were still a little weak and wobbly from what was left of the morphine still being circulated in her system but they somehow managed to propel her forward anyway. She stiff-armed the bathroom door, slamming it against the white-tiled wall with a loud bang, and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet. She had just enough time to open the lid before she was vomiting up every bite of food left undigested inside of her. It wasn't much, mostly bile, but it didn't stop her from dry-heaving for at least a full minute afterwards; her stomach cramping painfully again and again as she held her head over the no longer pristine porcelain of the commode and groaned.

Once her stomach finally settled, she sat back and wiped at her mouth with one shaking hand, grateful that it was over. After a moment she heard some movement off to her left and turned her head to see Trevor standing in the open doorway. The look on his face was one of concern and she almost laughed.

"What?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "I guess that _was_ pretty fucking personal, wasn't it?"

She turned her head so that she was looking up at the ceiling above, "You just had to know, didn't you? You had to make me remember all that shit."

"Maybe I shouldn't have," he shrugged, cracking his tattooed knuckles; big scraggly letters spelling out 'FUCK' across the knuckles of his right hand and 'YOU' on the left. "But maybe you needed to tell someone so...why not me?"

Livia scoffed at this, "What are you? My fucking therapist now?"

He smiled and shook his head, "No, not by a long shot. But I am someone who knows a little bit about old hurts." He paused for a moment and then added, "This might shock you but I also had a pretty rough go of it growing up."

"No," she said feigning surprise as she wiped at her eyes again. "Not you. You're such a fine, upstanding citizen."

He tittered at that and shook his head, "Oh you're a funny one, aren't you?" He came forward and offered her one tattooed hand, "Come on. Let's get cleaned up and go to bed, huh?"

Livia nodded and took his hand, thinking that sleep sounded like the best thing right now. She allowed Trevor to pull her back to her feet once again and when he did he pulled her into a hug. She stood there with her face pressed against his bare chest for a moment, too surprised to move, and as he pulled back she looked up at him and saw an even more startling thing. There was real warmth in his eyes, far more than she'd ever seen from him before, and they no longer resembled those of a hungry shark as he smiled. Those were very human eyes looking down at her and she looked away suddenly, almost as frightened now as she had been when he'd had the gun pointed at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been battling a really nasty cold lately so I'm not really sure how coherent all this is. I may have to come back at a later time and edit the hell out of it. If that does happen I apologize in advance.


	15. Chapter 15

After sending Wade to his own room next door Trevor started the shower and they got in together. As he pulled off her clothes Livia didn't protest. She was too tired and there was no point. Trevor did as Trevor wanted and her approval was not needed. As they worked at cleaning away the dirt and grime from their bodies, she noticed that he seemed very calm; he even hummed to himself a little as he washed her back.

 _How can he be so serene after everything that's happened tonight?_ she wondered. How could he smile at her and continue to hum that strangely familiar tune? This sudden shift towards tranquility made absolutely zero sense to her.

Livia tried not to think about it, deciding that as long as he wasn't acting crazy she wasn't going to worry about what was going on in that strange head of his. She just washed her hair with the tiny complimentary bottles of shampoo and conditioner and worked on untangling her long brown locks. After so much time without a brush she had her work cut out for her and it was more than enough to occupy her attention for the time being.

When they were finished showering, she wrapped herself in one of the scratchy white towels that the hotel had provided for them and followed Trevor back into the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed and smoked a cigarette and she lay down on the opposite end, lying on top of the bedspread and looking up at the ceiling. Not long after she'd laid down she began to doze but came awake again when Trevor turned off the television and lay down with her.

At first she was terrified when his arm wrapped around her middle and he snuggled up close; the hotel towels the only things separating their bare flesh. She could feel the press of his semi-erect member at her backside but it seemed that spooning was all he had in mind and soon she relaxed; laying on the curve of his arm and letting herself drift away again.

A few minutes later Trevor began to hum that familiar tune once more and right before true sleep claimed her she finally recognized it; 'When a Man Loves a Woman' by Percy Sledge.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia came awake from a very deep sleep only an hour and a half later to the feel of someone's head nuzzling between her legs. Alarm bells were ringing in her head as she struggled to climb her way out of the cobwebs of sleep and looked down to find that her towel had been undone and that now she was lying stretched out diagonally across the queen-size bed. Trevor had his impossibly strong arms wrapped around her thighs and he was effectively pinning her to the bed beneath him as he lay with half of his legs hanging off over the far side. She let out a surprised gasp as he moved and raked the stubble on his chin over the defenseless flesh between her shivering thighs.

He looked up, his face almost completely hidden in shadow, and whispered, "Don't be afraid, precious. I'm not going to hurt you."

Livia nervously licked her lips and touched her face slowly with stiff fingers; unsure as to whether or not this was a dream or something that was actually happening, "Trevor, what are you...why..."

He gave a thick laugh and she shivered even harder as his stubble scraped very close to the most sensitive part of her once again. " _Relax_ ," he said, his voice low, musical almost; clearly he was already enjoying himself immensely. "Just lay back and let me show you how much I love you."

Her breathing was becoming too shallow and already the lightheadedness was coming into play as she whispered, "Trevor, I don't think..." But the rest died on her lips. She didn't know what she thought. At this moment she was far too scared to think of anything at all.

"I love it when you say my name," he purred at her; grinning like the cat who ate the canary. "Say it again."

She was shaking so hard now that the word became a stutter, "T-T-Trevor..."

"You sound like Porky fucking Pig but you what? I'll take it," he said good-naturedly. Then his head dipped down and suddenly she could feel the warm wetness of his mouth on her.

She reached down without thought and clutched at his burly shoulders as if she meant to push him away. But she didn't, only gripped his skin tightly beneath her fingers as his tongue found that tiny pink nub that he so clearly wanted and began to lick it with great enthusiasm. Livia gasped, trying to draw enough air to speak but it seemed an insurmountable task at the moment; her breath so fast and shallow that she was almost hyperventilating. Trevor's tongue robbed her of speech, leaving her only able to squirm and let out breathless little noises that almost made her sound as if she were in pain.

There was no pain even though he was squeezing her legs pretty tight in an effort to keep her from snapping them shut on his head. There were only strong feelings of physical pleasure that ran through her body, alternating between shuddering electric tingles and bright, jagged bolts of lightning; weakening her will to resist with every passing second. But that only lasted until he changed the direction of his tongue; shifting from slow, lazy figure eights to a much quicker, rougher up and down motion. She bucked beneath him, making him work harder to hold her down, and she could feel herself responding to his attentions. Hell, she was practically dripping onto the bed below her as he continued. She was squirming harder and harder and he was really having to hold on now as the cheap motel bed beneath them creaked like a rusty weathervane in a strong wind.

"Trevor!" she managed to cry out, her hands sliding up from his shoulders until they were tangled in the short brown locks of his thinning hair. 

She heard him grunt in approval and then he was moving down just a bit, sliding his tongue into the part of her that now ached fiercely for his attention. She stilled somewhat as he began fucking her with his tongue and she sighed in contentment, completely unaware that she was using both hands to slowly press his face into her harder.

He released her right leg to reach up and begin rubbing at her clitoris with two fingers, stroking her until she began to squirm again while he tried to bury his face even deeper. It went on for a seemingly endless amount of time, the pleasure becoming more and more intense and making her brain feel like it was short-circuiting on her. All the while her breath hitched in her chest and she moaned, writhing beneath him helplessly as his mouth and fingers did things to her that she couldn't help but enjoy. 

When his tongue and fingers suddenly switched positions and he penetrated her much more deeply with two fingers, she felt herself building up toward a release without warning. He licked at her clitoris in that rough way again as his fingers found that deep spot and rubbed maddeningly, watching her face as it contorted like a person in the throes of either great agony or great passion...or perhaps both. Livia cried out as her orgasm began, her mouth an open O of surprise as it coursed through her entire body; so strong that she lost all sense of anything beyond the singing bliss running through her body from the roots of her hair all the way to the tips of her toes and fingers. Trevor watched it all avidly with his dark eyes, working harder to bring her to her peak as she stiffened; her back arching into a deep curve that drew her abdomen into a hard, trembling line. Finally she let out a soft moan as the pleasure began to wane, leaving her weak and breathless as Trevor smiled up at her.

She released the back of his head as the last pulse of fading pleasure left her; drawing her hands away from his head as if she had touched something hot enough to sear her fingertips. He withdrew from her and brought himself up until he was slipping his narrow hips between her tired legs. She felt the push of his cock against her pelvic bone and then he reached down and took himself in hand; guiding it in with a long, guttural groan.

There was a bit of pain as he slid in completely and she grabbed his forearms to brace herself, gritting her teeth against it. He didn't go easy on her either, he was far too excited for anything like gentleness now. He began thrusting hard and fast, crushing her beneath him and forcing the air out of her again and again before she could draw a full breath. Livia closed her eyes and held on for dear life, the pain never dissipating even though the pleasure was still there mixed in somewhere underneath it all.

Trevor was using all of his considerable force to batter in and out of her, panting and dropping his head like a bull charging forward. She could hear him softly grunt with each push forward; his hands placed on either side of her ribcage. When he lowered himself to kiss at the line of her jaw she tried to turn away but he lifted one hand and grabbed her face; laying his thumb along her right cheek and his other fingers along her left. She couldn't breathe and her face began to flush a bright pink but Trevor didn't seem to care. He smashed his lips down on hers in a sloppy kiss, prying them open until he could worm his tongue inside of her mouth.

Livia knew what he wanted, what he was waiting for, so in an effort to keep him from doing something rash that could lead to more pain for herself, she made an attempt to kiss him back. It was clumsy and awkward; something that was forced rather than instinctual. She couldn't seem to match his rhythm at all but Trevor didn't seem to mind that either. He groaned softly and doubled his efforts, his hand softening its grip as his tongue shoved even further into her mouth.

Within minutes her chest began to ache from the need to draw a breath and she turned her head away to suck air into her throbbing lungs; her eyes pulsing along with the rapid pounding of her heart as he groaned again and used both hands to prop himself up once more. As her breathing finally returned to something approaching normal, she looked up to see him staring down at her; his brows drawn together in a deep scowl as his pace quickened.

"Tell me you love me," he growled at her; his dark eyes caught in a shaft of light from a tiny gap in the curtains behind her. He was no longer smiling yet his eyes held that dancing look she had seen in them so many times before; shifting in the light like a kaleidoscope of madness, lust and rage.

Knowing that refusal would most likely result in more severe pain for her, she immediately complied with this demand. "I love you, Trevor," she whispered, staring into his eyes and wondering in a distracted way if she was losing her mind.

His hand came up again but this time he gripped her by her throat, placing his thumb directly over her windpipe and squeezing just enough to send an icy dagger of fear into the pit of her belly as he continued to use her. A long frustrated groan emitted from him somewhere deep inside his sweaty chest as he pushed his face down closer to hers until their noses were almost touching.

"Say it like you _mean_ it," he commanded; his voice a low, dangerous growl.

Livia could see nothing other than the hard glare of his eyes looking into hers and gasped as he began fucking her harder, slower; their skin slapping together like a lone person giving enthusiastic applause. It was harder to speak now but she forced the words out of her constricted throat; almost pleading with him.

"I love you, Trevor," she moaned, her own brows drawn together as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of her and made the pain surge forward once more. "Please, I do. I love you so much."

The slow smile that spread across his face should've been a good sign but she thought she could drive him further into feelings of mercy if she expanded upon it.

"Don't stop," she told him. "I love you, Trevor. Oh my God, I _love_ you."

He chuckled thickly and released her throat; pressing his lips down on hers again and silencing her. She kissed him back to appease him but, as she did, something unexpected began to happen. The desire was reawakening within her, responding perhaps as much to her own words as to the feeling of his stiff cock buried deep inside of her. Even so, the pain hadn't left her entirely and a small kernel of fear stayed in the back of her mind; keeping an eye out for new danger even as she felt her own desire rise up to meet his.

After a long moment he pulled back again and lifted her legs, bending them up against her chest as she gasped and threw her head back. She squeezed her eyes shut as her doubled over position made her feel everything even more than before. She gripped the back of her knees and tried to prop herself up but he was smashing his body down on hers harder and harder, driving her mercilessly into the mattress below her as he panted and dripped sweat from every pore on his body.

"You're my good girl, aren't you, darlin'?" he asked, still smiling.

Livia nodded, "Yes, Trevor. I'm whatever you want."

He chuckled again as he watched her moan and blush under him. "You're fucking beautiful, that's what you are," he told her, his voice edging toward a growl now. "So fucking beautiful."

She bit her lip against another moan as he reached down again for that pink button that made her lose all sense of anything outside of herself. He rubbed it slowly and gently even through he was still drilling into her with incredible force; making her hips buck uncontrollably as she gripped her knees hard enough to leave bruises.

Trevor surprised her when he drew back and his cock slipped away, leaving her feeling suddenly empty inside. He pulled her into a sitting position and then he was lying down on his back beside her with his dick waving in the air; blood red at the tip and visibly throbbing. He pulled her halfway on top of him and she looked down at him to see his hairy, tattooed chest heaving in the dimness around them.

"Get on top," he invited, tugging insistently on her arm.

Livia was hesitant even though that aching desire in her middle was stronger than ever. "I...I don't know..." she whispered, trying to pull back a little.

But Trevor was not easily dissuaded of this notion. His hand gripped her forearm harder, almost painful now, and he jerked her forward. "Be my good girl," he told her, his voice only just beginning to edge toward irritation. "Come on, Livia. _Do it_."

She chewed her lip nervously and said, "All right, Trevor. If that's what you want."

His smile came back with renewed vigor, "Oh, yes. Very much."

He released her arm and she climbed on top, using one arm to prop herself up as she used her free hand to reach down for him. Her face burned with shame but it was only because in that moment she wanted to do this just as much as he did. He was pushing her but her will to resist had truly withered away to nothing. She guided him in and sighed as she slid down his length until she had every inch buried inside her, trying to keep herself from finishing herself off almost instantly. 

She sat on him still chewing her lower lip and felt his hands slide up her thighs until they were gripping her hips. He pushed her down harder as he lifted his own hips at the same time; trying to penetrate her even further somehow. She shivered, the heat in her core building until she couldn't wait anymore and began moving up and down on him as much as his tight hold on her would allow.

"There you go," he half-whispered, half-growled up at her, his grip on her hips never loosening. "Just do what comes natural, darlin'."

But it wasn't natural, no matter how good it felt or how much she wanted to do this. Nothing about this was natural. He was a monster; a drug addicted psychopath who had no qualms about hurting or killing whoever was unlucky enough to land in his cross hairs. He was abhorrent and unnatural in every way; a man only in the sense that he walked on two legs and pissed standing up. Knowing this had no effect on her desire, however, and she grinded down onto him harder than ever; her pace becoming quicker as his hands slid upward and around to grip her swaying breasts.

His mouth found her left nipple and began to suck, drawing a heated moan from her as she lifted her upper half slightly to offer him better access. She heard his chest rumble his approval and she braced herself with one hand on his hairy chest and the other beside his head. She was nearing another climax, one that was at least twice as strong as the first had been, and Trevor had been awaiting this moment; already grown used to her enough to recognize her signals the second they arrived. 

His mouth released her nipple and pulled her down on top of him, pressing his mouth onto hers and kissing her again as she began to orgasm. He thrusted faster, harder, and she kissed him back passionately as she pushed down fiercely with her pelvis, holding him into the pulsating heat at her center as much as possible. Right at the highest point of her ecstasy she felt him begin to cum as well; shooting his seed into her with enough force that she could feel him twitching even as her own muscles did the same. He moaned in a needy way and continued to kiss her deeply until the last of his pleasure spilled out and left him shuddering in a jerking motion for at least ten full seconds.

Finally he stilled and she turned her head away to lay her cheek on his shoulder; feeling his heart beat underneath the right side of her chest as her own pounded just as hard on the other side. Soon the connection between them faded and she slipped off of him, lying on his left side and cushioning her head on his arm. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, snuggling up to her. At the moment she didn't mind, he seemed docile and satisfied and like much less of a threat than he had been before. That was enough.

The illusion of safety is better than none at all.


	16. Chapter 16

"I'm sorry, sir," the young woman with the blond shag haircut said, her nose crinkling up in disgust. "I can't let you come in here like that."

Trevor looked down at himself, at his bare chest and filthy pants, "Why the fuck not?"

The woman, whose little nametag identified her as Nancy, twisted her lips into a patronizing smile and gestured vaguely at both Trevor and Livia standing before her outside the Binco clothing store not far from Forum Drive. Trevor had no shirt because he'd given it to Livia to wear along with her rumpled jogging shorts. They had nothing else.

"What?" he nearly barked at her, irritated. "We're here to buy clothes. Our money spends just the same as anyone else's."

"I can't let you come in here like that," she repeated and then reached over and tapped the store window beside her with one manicured fingertip. The hand printed sign taped to the inside of the glass read **No Shirt, No Shoes = NO SERVICE!** "It's store policy."

Trevor let out an angry growl and dug into his pocket with one hand to retrieve his wallet. He pulled out a twenty and offered it to the woman, "Here. Then ring up a shirt for me and bring it out here so I can put it on and come inside."

Nancy's smile curdled into a look of supreme distaste and she hurriedly plucked the twenty from his hand; pinching it between her thumb and index finger and holding it away from herself as if the money were a dirty diaper.

" _Fine_ ," she said with an impertinent toss of her head. "What shirt would you like me to ring up for you?"

"I don't know, do I?" he snapped back, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. "You won't let me in the fucking store." When Nancy only continued to stare at him, he let out a frustrated groan and said, "I don't care. It doesn't matter. Whatever you grab is fine."

She turned away and went inside the store again, her slim hips swinging under the denim skirt and black tights she wore on her stick-like legs. Trevor watched her go, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched, and said, "I hate Los Santos. This whole place is just _teeming_ with assholes like that."

Livia said nothing, only glanced at the parking lot behind her where Wade waited in the car. He saw her looking and raised one hand in a big side-to-side wave; smiling that slightly doofy smile at her. She lifted one hand in return and turned back to see Trevor now staring at her with that suspicious look in his eyes again. She dropped her hand and straightened up, forcing her expression to go utterly blank and devoid of all emotion.

Moments later the girl came back holding a plain green shirt in one hand and Trevor's change in the other. He took both and Livia noticed how careful Nancy was to not let their fingers touch, her face twisted up in that same look of disdain as before. He quickly tore the tags off, ripping a good-sized hole in one sleeve, and tugged the shirt on over his head.

He turned to look at Nancy, "How's that?"

She gave another toss of her head and held the door open, "Come in, sir. Welcome to Binco. Let me know if you need help finding anything." The words were cordial but her tone was icy, suggesting that she would prefer they stay as far from her as possible.

Trevor took Livia's hand and led her in through the door. Nancy sighed heavily as if to indicate that her day couldn't get any worse and Trevor took Livia over to the racks containing women's attire. He gestured with one hand toward the various clothing and said, "Anything you want, darlin'."

Livia didn't particularly care what the clothes looked like as long as they fit well and didn't make her look like a down-on-her-luck prostitute...which actually narrowed her choices down quite a bit. She started grabbing t-shirts and jeans and shorts and blouses and dresses seemingly at random, only making sure first that they were her size and at least looked like adequate coverage for her body. Trevor did his own picking and choosing, also randomly, and soon they had armloads of clothes that Trevor dumped onto the counter. Since they were the only patrons at the store this early in the morning on a Friday they went back to another aisle to find socks and underwear for both of them. Livia even found a hairbrush, a couple of halfway decent bras and a few pairs of shoes that would fit her.

When they were ready to ring up their items they stood at the counter for a full five minutes before long-suffering Nancy finally sauntered over and stepped behind the register. "We don't take personal checks," she said, chewing a wad of pink gum now. "Will this be cash or charge?"

"Cash," Trevor growled, obviously about to lose what little patience he had with Nancy's I'm-better-than-you attitude.

"Great," Nancy returned, finally sounding as though she'd pulled her underwear from the crack of her narrow ass.

She began ringing up their purchases, popping her gum and rolling her eyes every now and then. Livia watched her scan each item while Trevor stepped off to one side and looked at a display of sunglasses on the right side of the counter. When she caught her ringing up one of the most expensive items not once or twice but three times, she raised a finger and said, "Hey, hey, hey. You need to slow down. You just scanned that blouse three times."

Nancy lifted one penciled-in eyebrow and popped her gum, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Livia said, leaning on the counter with one hand and pointing over at the blue and red striped boat neck blouse she'd just stuffed into a sack. "You rang that one up three times."

Little spots of color crept up on Nancy's pale cheeks, "I did not."

Livia scoffed and cocked her head at the younger woman, "Yes, you _did_."

Trevor heard this exchange and came over to stand at Livia's side, "What's going on?"

Livia never took her eyes off of Nancy, "She's trying to overcharge us."

" _Excuse me_?" The blonde repeated. 

"What?" Trevor asked, confused.

"You got a lot of balls to do that right in front of me and still deny it, I'll give you that, but I know what I saw and heard," Livia said, her hard blue eyes staring Nancy down. "You better fix it right now or you're going to find yourself in a world of trouble."

"Oh my God," she said, rolling her eyes again even though Livia saw the way her hands trembled. "Are you threatening me?"

"You're goddamned right I am," Livia replied, her mouth held in a tight, humorless smile. "You're blatantly ripping us off. You think I don't know this trick? I worked retail all those years you were still running around with scabby knees and pigtails. You overcharge us and then print out a new receipt once we're gone. You go back, refund the money and it goes in your pocket. It doesn't work with customers who pay with plastic, only cash. Isn't that right, Nancy?" She saw the look of stunned surprise on the younger woman's face and her smile grew. "Now are you going to fix it or am I going to have to call your corporate office and let them know that you're stealing from customers?"

Nancy's mouth had dropped open, the wad of gum sitting on her tongue like a tiny pink brain, and it took her a moment to regain some measure of composure before she said, "Um, let me...let me take a look. _Maybe_ I made a mistake."

"Maybe," Livia agreed.

As Nancy fixed her 'mistake' Livia felt Trevor's arm drape across her shoulders. He pulled her close and placed a big kiss on her temple. Livia bore it well, keeping her eyes on the girl and making sure that she did what needed to be done. He was obviously pleased with her and that was fine. She had no intention of telling him the truth; that she hadn't done it for him. It had been more a matter of principle than anything else. She hated to admit it but Trevor had been right.

Nancy was an asshole.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After brushing her hair and changing into jeans and a T-shirt in the car, Trevor took them to a diner nearby with a sign out front that said _Christy's_ in swirly red script. They were still in a part of the city that Livia had very little to no experience with so she didn't know what to expect when they walked in. It didn't look bad at all, though. A nicely painted mural covered the wall that separated the kitchen and the lobby areas, there were old-fashioned hanging lamps over each table, and a big community board with announcements of block parties and church festivals or people offering dog-walking services or spin classes hung on the wall between the restrooms. The place smelled fantastic, too. It was near lunch and the place was pretty packed but they managed to snag a booth and moments later a pretty young waitress with bright red hair came to give them menus and take their drink orders before flitting away again.

Livia let her eyes aimlessly drift around the restaurant interior, noting that it seemed this place had food good enough to warrant people from all walks of life congregating here. There were a couple of gangbanger-looking types here and there, sure, but there were also a couple of nurses, a gaggle of giggling ladies in business suits, a few men in hard hats, a harried-looking mother of three, a couple of homeless people sipping coffee, and...

Her eyes widened as they fixated on the group of cops sitting at a booth across the narrow aisle and four booths down. In their black uniforms she didn't know how she hadn't spotted them immediately. There were four of them; two white, one black and one that looked to be of possible Latino descent. All strong capable-looking guys with guns on their hips and burgers in their hands. 

She felt Trevor's hand on her thigh, squeezing lightly, "What'cha thinkin', precious?"

Livia heard her neck creak like a rusty spring as she looked over at him, "Huh?"

His eyes bored into hers like twin drills but still he smiled, "I asked what you're thinking about."

She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "The tag on the back of this shirt is making me itch like a motherfucker."

Trevor chuckled and squeezed her leg again before letting go and digging into his pants pocket. As he shifted she noticed the bulge in the front of his waistband. She knew it was the automatic pistol that he never went anywhere without and began to calculate the odds of one armed man against four. How good of a shot was Trevor? Thanks to the element of surprise he'd probably manage to pop at least two of the officers before they even got their guns out. And where would that leave her? To be taken hostage? What if the cops decided they didn't give a shit and just started shooting?

Trevor pulled out a pocket knife and made a twirling motion with one finger. Livia took the hint and turned her back to him, putting one hand under her hair and lifting it off of the back of her neck as he tweezed the tag between two fingers and began slicing through the material. Facing away from him once again, her eyes happened upon the mother of three sitting at the table just in front of theirs; directly between her and her view of the table full of cops. None of her kids looked to be older than five or six at most and the littlest one, just a baby, was right out in the aisle in one of those clunky wooden highchairs. That cute, chubby little face smeared with blueberry flavored pancake syrup would be caught right in the crossfire with her.

Nope. Uh-uh. She couldn't take the chance. No matter how badly she wanted out she wouldn't risk these people's lives to get there. She was nowhere near cold-blooded enough.

Trevor finished cutting off the tag and she turned to look at him again. "Better?" he asked, holding up the little tag like a trophy fish.

She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand as if to help soothe the imaginary itch and said, "Much better. Thank you."

The waitress came back with their drinks and set them down. Taking a notepad from the pocket of her apron and a pen from behind her ear, she gave a tired smile and asked, "You ready to order?"

When she dropped her pen and it skidded over the tiled floor to rest near Livia's feet, Livia bent to retrieve it and quickly tucked the plain Bic into the side of her sneaker; sliding it in near her ankle and stuffing it way down until the tip rested near her big toe. It was impulsive, this petty theft, and she didn't know why exactly she did it other than it was pointy and could possibly be used to defend herself in a pinch. She raised up after a moment of pretending to search for it and spread her hands in an apologetic gesture. The waitress shrugged as if to say 'no big deal' and promptly pulled another from the pocket of her apron.

They took it easy on her and all of them ordered the same thing; three cheeseburgers and three orders of fries. The waitress nodded, told them it might be a minute and then disappeared again; her bright red corona of frazzled hair lost in the bustle of the lunch rush. Livia sipped her e-Cola for a moment and glanced back over at the table of cops. She noticed one of them, the white guy with the shaved head, look over at her. 

She looked away a second as if startled and then looked back. He was still looking at her. 

Looking away again, she glanced at Trevor to see him idly digging in his ear with the tip of one blunt finger while Wade sat across from them drawing designs in a layer of salt he'd spilled on the worn surface of the table. Livia glanced back at the cop and was relieved to see that this time he was looking at the cop sitting across from him.

She tried to avoid looking in that direction again, concentrating on anything other than that table for the time being. It did take a while but eventually their food came, steaming hot and smelling absolutely delicious. Livia didn't care if she burned her tongue or the roof of her mouth; she was too hungry to wait. She wolfed down half of her cheeseburger in four big bites, grease running down the sides of her chin, and chewed blissfully as her eyes once more fell upon the table full of LSPD officers.

The bald one was looking at her again and smiled in a surprisingly friendly way as he saw her eyes meet his. He raised his eyebrows slightly and gave her the 'hey there' head nod. She tried not to let him know she'd seen it and let her eyes drift away from his face, still chewing; thinking. She was almost done eating the last of her french fries when she got an idea.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said to Trevor. "Can I?"

He looked over at her, wiping his chin with a napkin, and swallowed his mouthful of food before saying, "Didn't you go before we left the hotel?"

She nodded, "Yeah but I need to go again."

Trevor grunted sourly, "Fine. Hurry back."

She stood from the table, hardly able to believe her luck, and then he said, "Wade, go with her."

Her heart sinking, she waited for Wade to stand up and follow her to the restrooms, passing by the booth full of cops and being extra careful not to look at any of them. She walked as normally as possible with the pen tip stabbing her big toe and headed toward the bathrooms. They were situated on either side of the huge corkboard with all the announcements and she went into the ladies' restroom while Wade stood in front of the board and puzzled over the items tacked to it.

Once inside she went to the first stall she saw and put a locked barrier between her and the rest of the world. She sat on the toilet and tugged her new sneaker off, scrambling for the pen as it bounced out and barely catching it before it could roll away under the stall door. She put her shoe back on with shaking hands and then dug into the front pocket of her jeans for the napkin she'd surreptitiously stuffed there just before she'd asked to use the restroom.

Her hands shaking, Livia smoothed out the flimsy, crumpled gossamer-like paper over her thigh and tried to write on it with the tip of her ill-gotten pen. The paper tore immediately and she felt her face flush as a sudden panic attack overwhelmed her. Trying not to scream, she felt a wave of uncomfortable, tingly-coldness rush over her face as her heart began to beat so fast she feared it might stop altogether soon. She bit the side of one hand to keep quiet, her stomach twisting warningly, and tried to breathe slow and steady. She did her best to fight through it, thinking, _Stop, stop it, Livia. Now's not the time for this shit. Get it together. Come on, you gotta do this._

After a few endless moments she felt the wave inside her finally break and she coasted back down; her heart still pounding as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. She took one last deep breath and bent her head to look at the napkin again. Smoothing it with one trembling hand, she began to write and the paper didn't tear once.

 _Help me. My name is Livia Wallace and I'm being held captive by a murderer. It's the balding guy sitting with me, the one with tattoos and wearing a green shirt. He's extremely unstable and he has a gun on him so be careful. Please don't shoot me._

She knew there was more information that she should give but she was swiftly running out of writing space so that would have to do. She had no idea how long she'd been in the bathroom but something inside her told her that she was running out of time anyway. Trevor could come looking for her any moment.

This thought almost brought another panic attack on so she stood, gave the toilet a flush, and left the stall before it could happen again. Slipping the pen into her pocket, she folded the napkin into her palm and went to the sink. She turned on the faucet, gave her free hand a couple of cursory splashes and then exited the bathroom.

Wade was waiting for her in the exact same spot she'd left him in, his dull eyes peering at an advertisement for a nail salon as if he'd never seen anything like it before. After a moment he turned, saw her and smiled, "Hey, you all done?"

She gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace of fear but he probably couldn't tell the difference anyway so she didn't worry too much about it. "Sure," she said. "Let's go."

Livia turned and began to walk back the way they had come, looking down at her feet and watching the shoes of the people as they passed by them. Cops wore black shiny shoes, almost like dress shoes, right? She just had to wait until she saw a group of them, drop the napkin, bend to pick it up and turn to the cop who had smiled at her, saying, 'Excuse me, sir. I think you dropped this.' Then she could walk back to the table where Trevor sat, cool as a cucumber, with no one the wiser. Hopefully with her adding the fact of Trevor's armed status, the cops would know not to confront them in a crowded place and make their move in the parking lot.

She saw the shoes, the shiny black ones, four pairs on her right approaching fast and her heart stopped. Her hand clenched around the folded napkin involuntarily at the moment of truth and she repeated over and over in her head, _Excuse me, sir. I think you dropped this. Excuse me, sir. I think you dropped this. Excuse me, si-_

Then there was a person standing directly in front of her, blocking her path, and she looked up to see Trevor looking back down at her smiling his shark-smile.

The panic attack she'd had in the bathroom was nothing compared to the surging horror that consumed her in that moment. She looked up into his black eyes and her mind screamed frantically at her; no words, only the need to flee, to run, to get away because she knew she was caught. Oh God, he was going to kill her for this. She was going to die because she was stupid, stupid, stupid. So incredibly fucking stupid to have ever had any hope in escaping this madness.

Trevor looked into her bulging blue eyes and saw the color creeping across her face; all but shrieking the word guilty without ever opening her mouth. Her throat locked against a scream, she dropped the napkin and it bounced off of the toe of her shoe and rolled behind the scuffed loafers of the old man sitting in the booth next to her; lost to the shadows.

Trevor's hands came up for her face and cupped it gently as his expression turned to one of concern. "What's wrong?" he asked softly. Not angry. He wasn't angry. Why wasn't he angry?

Livia drew in a shuddering breath to calm herself but still couldn't speak as it slowly dawned on her that she hadn't been found out. He couldn't read her mind. No matter how perceptive he was, he wasn't some kind of evil clairvoyant. She was safe after all. Safe...as long as she kept her mouth shut.

"Nothing," she said, her face slowly returning to its natural pale color. "You just - you scared me. That's all."

He smiled and reached down to take her hand, linking his fingers through hers. "You were in there so long I thought I should come check on you," he told her, leading her back toward their booth. "Thought maybe you might need some help."

He laughed at his own joke and Livia wondered for the second time in less than a day if she was losing what little mind she had left.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not happy with this chapter. Kept editing it over and over hoping to make it a little better but if I don't stop I'll never post it. Finally decided to hell with it, time to move on to the next one.

After spending most of their day driving around trying to score some more meth for Trevor and Wade, they found themselves in Rockford Hills outside of a 24/7 at ten thirty that night. Wade had gone in for beer and cigarettes while Trevor and Livia waited in the car. 

The city was alive with movement and sound even at this time of night. She could hear kids in souped up cars revving their engines, people catcalling and arguing with each other or blabbing away on their cell phones, and what seemed like a million different radios tuned to a thousand different radio stations. It was Friday night and people were living it up as much as they possibly could. As always, she wondered about Paul and how he was holding up. It hurt to think of him but she couldn't help it, it was where her mind usually went during prolonged periods of inactivity.

Livia didn't know how long she'd been staring at the payphone next to the air pump before Trevor asked, "Someone you'd like to call?"

Startled, she jumped and turned to look at him, "Uh..."

One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, "It's okay, darlin'. I'm not going to be mad if you say yes."

She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and nodded.

"Let me guess. Your old man?" he chuckled and lit his last cigarette. "Wanna let him know you're not dead?"

Swallowing thickly, she nodded again. "Yeah," she admitted, still wary even though he didn't seem upset with her in the least. "Pretty much."

"You can if you want," he told her, blowing a huge cloud of smoke out of his nostrils that obscured his face for a moment. He dug into his pocket with one hand and pulled out several quarters. "Here. Go make your call."

Livia took the money with a hand that might as well have been dead from the wrist down. Still feeling as if this were some kind of trick, she let herself out of the passenger side of the car and walked toward the payphone. She could feel Trevor watching her and crossing that ten feet or so of parking lot seemed to take forever. Somehow she finally made it there and lifted the phone from its cradle, fully expecting the line to be dead when she put it up to her ear.

She was so stunned to hear the open hum of the dial tone that for a moment she couldn't move. Then, remembering that Trevor was still watching and could change his mind at any time, she plugged quarters into the slot and dialed Paul's cell from memory. She shifted anxiously from foot to foot as the phone began to ring in her ear. It went on and on and she was sure she'd only get his voicemail when someone finally picked up.

A giggle and then, "Hello?"

Livia felt her heart plunge down into her stomach at the sound of the girlish voice on the other end. That wasn't Paul's deep baritone. Not at all.

"Who is this?" she asked, her hands shaking so bad that she had to clutch the phone with both of them to keep from dropping it. "Where's Paul?"

"Um..." the female voice hesitated. "Hold on a second." She could hear her speak again but this time she sounded a bit muffled as if she were attempting to hold the phone as far from her mouth as possible, "Paul? There's some woman looking for you."

Livia heard a thud and the sound of running footsteps. Then Paul's voice, also muffled, "What the hell are you doing answering my phone?"

The woman who had picked up said something in return but she was moving too far away for Livia to be able to make out the words. Suddenly Paul was on the line, breathless, "Livia? Is that you?"

Trying to keep the tears back so that she could be understood, she said, "Yes, it's me. Who's the girl?"

A long pause. Livia could almost see the wheels turning in his head, trying to make up some excuse and find some way out of this. And to think that she'd actually believed things had been getting better between them.

"Who is she?" Livia repeated, her tone surprisingly neutral even though the tears were closer than ever now.

He cleared his throat and, as had been the case this last year or so, he immediately shifted away from her question and fired back with one of his own, "Where are you? I've been calling you for days!"

" _Who is she, Paul_?"

She didn't have to see his face to know it was working up into that dark, angry look of his. He was busted and he knew he was busted. Next would come the yelling.

"How the fuck could you just run off on me?!?" Paul shouted at her right on cue. "What did you expect?!? I didn't know if I was ever going to hear from you again!!!"

"I've been gone _three days_ ," she said, gritting her teeth against the tears that wanted to come. But they weren't tears of sorrow, no, now they were angry tears. _Furious_ tears. She wished that he was standing in front of her so that she could look him in the eye when she said what she had to say next. "I guess that was more than enough time for you though, huh? Did you pick her up at a bar or is she one of those women from that dating site you swore up and down that you weren't on?"

"Goddamn it, Livia," he growled. "Just come home. Wherever you are, come home _now_."

"I don't think I will," she said, the tears finally breaking through and running down her cheeks. "I've been trying to, all this time I've been trying to, and for what? You don't even care."

Paul fell into stunned silence for a long moment and when he finally spoke again his anger had fizzled, leaving him sounding uncertain and perhaps even a little scared, "What...what do you mean? What happened?"

She let out a bitter laugh as her heart was slowly breaking, "It doesn't matter anymore. Sounds like you've been having the time of your life without me."

"That's not true," he told her, definitely scared now...though she couldn't imagine why. "I've been _miserable_ without you, Livia. I don't even know this bimbo. I only brought her home because I couldn't stand to come back to our empty apartment again."

"All through this nightmare I've thought of you, you know that? I've missed you and hoped and prayed so many times that I would see you again. I go missing and what do you do? You go out and fuck half the neighborhood!"

"I didn't fuck her," he said, sounding absurdly as if he were pouting. "I didn't fuck anybody. I thought about it but I wasn't gonna actually go through with it. I swear to God, I wasn't going to do _anything_."

Livia wiped her face with her free hand, her voice hoarse as she found it becoming more and more difficult to speak, "Sure, Paul. Sure. You know what? Do whatever you want. I'll probably be dead soon anyway."

"Livia, for the love of God, what are you talking about?"

"Did you take even one second to think that maybe I didn't just leave you? That me disappearing without saying a word or taking anything I own was a little, I don't know, _suspicious_? Have I ever once done something like this? Ever in the whole sixteen years that we've been together?" she asked, sobbing openly now; those bitter, angry tears scorching her face as they slid down to darken the front of her shirt. "I've been abducted by a maniac who's going to fucking _kill_ me, Paul. As soon as he's done playing with me, I'm going to be in a ditch somewhere with my head blown off and then you'll have all the time in the world to fuck as many women as you want. Won't that be nice?"

"What the fuck? Are you for real? You're saying someone _kidnapped_ you?" Paul asked, his voice shaking. He didn't sound at all like himself anymore. "Jesus Christ...where are you? I'll - I'll call the cops right now, okay? Just tell me where you are, Livia!"

She was crying too hard to answer him and when she felt a hand suddenly rip the phone away from her ear she let out a startled yelp; ducking instinctively as if expecting a blow. But Trevor didn't hit her, only smiled at her and put the phone to his ear as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders to hold her still beside him.

"This must be Mr. Wonderful," he said, his voice jovial even though his hand was gripping the phone so hard she thought he might break it. "You're Paul, right? Well, I just wanted to tell you that you're a stupid piece of shit, Paul. I mean, _come on_. Cheating on this beautiful, amazing woman you were lucky enough to get your hands on? What kind of fucking moron does something like that?"

He paused, listening for a long moment. "Ooooh, I'm scared," he said with a derisive laugh. "I wish you could see me, I'm practically shaking in my boots!"

As he paused, listening again, Livia watched his smile grow bigger and bigger. It wasn't a happy smile though; she could almost see the rage boiling up inside of him as his teeth clenched and a muscle in the side of his jaw twitched spastically.

"Yeah, well, that's all fine and good. You call whoever you need to call to make yourself feel better," he said, his voice dripping with venom but still somehow sounding as if he were enjoying himself. "As for your wife, she ain't coming home. She's mine now. I've fucked her up, down and sideways already and I'm gonna do it again just as soon as I get a chance. And guess what, dumbfuck? She _likes_ it." He let out a jagged laugh filled with that same mean pleasure she'd heard so many times before and tipped a wink at her as if it were some kind of inside joke between the two of them. "Oh, she tries to pretend that she doesn't but she does. She likes it so much that it's almost like she's never been fucked properly in her whole life. You should hear her scream my name when we're going at it, Paul. It's a real thing of beauty. By the way...when was the last time she screamed your name?"

She could hear Paul going off on the other end but she had no idea what he was saying because Trevor had the phone pressed to his ear too hard. Trevor let him rant for a moment and finally said, "You don't need to worry about Livia anymore. She's with me and I'm going to take real good care of her, I promise. Ta-ta for now, asshole."

He slammed the phone back into its cradle and turned to look at her as he gave her a tight squeeze, "There. Feel better now that we got that out of the way?"

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

They were back at the motel at around midnight. Trevor had finally gotten his hands on some crystal and he and Wade were just finishing up their bowl as Livia sat on the end of the bed with her head in her hands and stared at the carpet.

She felt so numb that everything inside of her might as well have been injected with Novocaine. She knew she should be upset; she should probably be crying and inconsolable right now. Sixteen years. Sixteen years worth of trying and hoping and planning all gone in an instant. The only person she cared about taken away from her as if he'd never really existed in the first place and yet...she felt nothing other than a wretched hollowness in the pit of her stomach. It was as if she had died during that phone call and her corpse was still walking around too stubborn to lay down and accept its fate.

Paul had claimed that he wasn't going to do anything but the fact that he had gone as far as to bring another woman into their home, _her_ home, was more than enough to tell her that it was truly over between them. Not to mention how quick he'd been to jump to his own conclusion about her sudden vanishing act. He'd believed what was convenient for him to believe...just like he always had. Perhaps her love for him had blinded her for so long to who he really was that she'd also believed what she wanted to.

She continued to sit there miserable, questioning everything, while Trevor and Wade got high. After a while they finished smoking and Trevor sent Wade to get them something to eat. He climbed onto the bed with her, his muscles jumping with energy, and put his head on her shoulder.

"Are you still bummed about your old man?" he asked, rubbing his hand along her arm and tickling her skin until it broke out in a patch of goosebumps. "Because you shouldn't be. He sounded like a real cocksnot."

Livia couldn't bring herself to look at him as she replied, "He wasn't always. He used to be different. He used to be...something."

"Well you're better off without that kind of shit in your life anyway," Trevor told her, snuggling up close and brushing her hair out of her face so he could plant a kiss on her cheek. "Trust me, two faced fucks like that only bring grief in the end."

"He was all I had," she said, still feeling nothing as he wrapped his arms around her. "He was the only person that ever really loved me. Or at least, I _thought_ he did."

"Someone who loves you doesn't treat you like that," he said, his voice thickening as he nuzzled in close to her neck. " _I_ love you. I would never cheat on you, darlin'."

Livia finally turned to look at him, giving a shake of her head, "You don't love me, Trevor. Not really. You're just...you're fucked up in the head, that's all."

He withdrew from her and she realized that only this morning she would've been cowering in fear from the steely look on his face. Now she didn't care. Dying didn't seem like such a big deal anymore. In a way she almost hoped for it.

"I am fucked up in the head," he agreed, his dilated eyes never blinking as they stared into hers. "But I know what love is. I've loved people before...more deeply than you know. Maybe it's because I'm fucked up in the head but when I love someone I love them with every piece of me. I love them until my fucking heart breaks from it." He took her hand in his and squeezed lightly, his skin warm on hers. "And I _do_ love you. Maybe I didn't at first but I do now. I love you so much that I can't bear to let you go."

Livia shrugged and gave a heavy sigh, "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. There's nothing left for me to go back to anymore. Paul was -"

"Paul was a twat," Trevor interrupted, his tone curt and edging toward annoyance. "A twat who didn't deserve you. Do you hear me? Forget about him."

"How?" she asked.

"I could bring him to you," Trevor offered, sounding as if he were relishing the thought of it. "Make that slimy fuck get down on his knees and beg you for forgiveness right before I kick the shit out of him. Or...you know...I could bring his head back to you on a spike if that's what you want."

"No," she sighed again, rubbing at her forehead with her free hand. "Just leave him alone. He's not worth the effort."

"Okay," Trevor said with a shrug. "But the offer's always on the table if you change your mind later, darlin'."

She fell silent again, brooding as she looked at the wedding ring on her left hand. Just a modest ring of gold; something that she'd been wearing so long she only noticed its existence when it snagged on something. Even though it hadn't left her hand in over a decade, it had never meant much to her because, while it was pretty, it was really nothing more than a symbol. One that she hadn't ever needed to remind her of who she had loved most in this world. Now it was the last token of all the could've, would've, should've beens that had died during a single phonecall. The sight of it made her want to scream and cry and rage against the injustice of it all but instead she only felt that emptiness inside her yawning wider and wider; threatening to swallow her whole.

"I heard what you told him," Trevor said, his voice softer now. "But you're wrong."

"About what?" she asked, not looking up.

"I'm not going to kill you," Trevor said, tracing the outline of her knuckles with one thick finger. "I never wanted to do that..." He let out a humorless grunt and admitted, "Well, maybe a little in the beginning when you wouldn't stop that constant fucking crying...but now? I couldn't. Even if you pushed me to the very edge of my patience, I still couldn't do it. I mean it, Livia. _I love you_. You're not going to end up in a ditch with your head blown off."

She looked over at him. What was she supposed to say to that? 'Thank you'? Instead what came out was, "Maybe you should kill me. Put me out of my fucking misery once and for all." 

"Don't say that," he whispered. "You don't mean that."

Livia didn't respond to this, only sat there looking at that slim band of gold on her finger and mourning the life that had once been.


	18. Chapter 18

Forty minutes later and Livia sat at the little table next to the bathroom alcove picking listlessly at her food, finding that she had absolutely no appetite whatsoever. She'd forced a few bites of chicken sandwich into her stomach but gave up soon after. What was the point of eating when everything tasted like ashes?

She didn't notice the way Trevor scowled as she sat there like a wax dummy; never raising her head or looking away from her mostly untouched meal. She didn't notice how much he began to drink. One beer, then two, then six; the bottles lined up like little soldiers on the table next to him. All of this alcohol on top of all the methamphetamines he'd already smoked, if she'd been paying attention she might've known what a dangerous combination this was. But, more than likey, even if she had that numbness would've made it hard for her to give a damn one way or the other. Let Trevor do whatever he wanted. Let him destroy his insides with all that poison. What did she care? She had her own problems to deal with right now.

Finally laying down to sleep at around two that morning, she wanted nothing more than to forget about everything for a little while. When Trevor lay down with her and began to hold her, however, she began to shake involuntarily. He kissed her neck and held her tight and she thought of how Paul used to do that once upon a time. How he had held her and snuggled with her on many different beds throughout their relationship. They had managed to work their way from a thirty dollar air mattress on the floor all the way to a thousand dollar king size memory foam bed on an actual frame before their nights spent sleeping beside one another finally came to an end. Before she was here lying with a stranger on a lumpy mattress wondering what the rest of her life would be like.

Without warning, she suddenly burst into uncontrollable tears; her chest aching fiercely as she tried to hold them back somehow with one hand placed over her mouth.

Trevor sat up and scowled down at her, "What is it now?"

Livia wiped her eyes and shook her head, trying to catch her breath, "I - I don't know. It's just..." But she didn't want to tell him. She didn't want to piss him off any more than he already was.

"Your old man?" he asked, the expression on his face unreadable through her tears.

She nodded, sniffling. It seemed the shock had finally worn off because the numbness was completely gone. Her pain had returned so strongly that it was something she could feel as a physical hurt; like someone was digging a dull blade into her heart and repeatedly twisting it back and forth with cruel, uncaring hands. She'd loved him so much and, even if she'd known somewhere deep inside of herself that it was coming someday, it hurt so fucking bad to lose him. It hurt so much more than she ever could've prepared herself for even if she'd been cursed to live a thousand lifetimes. The betrayal was too large, the pain still too raw, and she didn't have the proper tools to handle it. She never had.

"Don't think about it," Trevor advised, as if it could ever be that easy. "Forget about that human bag of sick."

"I c-can't stop seeing his face," she moaned, her voice watery and weak through violently hitching sobs. "Every time I close my eyes I see him. I can't stop wondering why...why he would do this? I - I tried so hard to be a good wife. I never even looked at another man in that way. Until you...until I met you he was the only man who had touched me since I was _fifteen_. How could he do this to me?"

"Your husband's a greedy cunt," Trevor said, clearly irritated; sounding as if he were ready to end this conversation as soon as humanly possible. "Greedy cunts are never satisfied no matter how good they have it. Loyalty means nothing to them."

She sobbed and put her face in her hands, "Oh God, it...it just hurts so _much_."

"Livia, darlin'," he said, trying his best to soothe her as he placed a gentle hand on her shaking back. "Everything's gonna work out somehow. It's gonna be okay."

"No, it's not!" she cried, shaking her head in negation as the knife twisted even deeper into her heart; leaving her to slowly bleed out from within. "Nothing is _ever_ going to be okay!!" Clenching her hands into tight little fists, she looked into his dark eyes with her burning blue ones and let her next words fly without thinking, "I meant what I said, Trevor. You should do me a favor and just fucking _kill me_ already!"

Trevor looked into her eyes for a long moment, searching them as if he could find some kind of answer there. Finally, seeing nothing but the fathomless depths of her pain, he let out a drawn-out growl of frustration and looked away; his mouth cramping down into a crude black slash. Suddenly he stood from the bed, muttering under his breath and running a hand through his receding hair as he stared down at the floor. He began to pace; shaking his arms and shoulders as if to warm up the muscles in preparation of some monumental task as Livia sobbed brokenly from her huddled up position on the bed. Back and forth he went, cracking his knuckles and popping his neck and grinding his teeth together. He was working himself up more and more into that strange kind of frenzied anger; his nearly black eyes bulging as he practically jittered inside his skin. After a few more minutes of pacing over the worn carpet and muttering to himself, he suddenly stopped and began tugging on his work boots once more.

"All right, that's fucking _it_ ," he announced, his voice gruff and no-nonsense. "Get up."

Livia sniffled and wiped her eyes again, "W-what?"

"You heard me," he snapped, his hands rolling up into big fists again and again as his eyes met hers. "Get your shoes on. We're not going to stay here in this shitty motel while you bawl your eyes out over that sorry cocksucker. Get on your feet."

"Trevor, I -"

" _On your feet_ ," he ordered through clenched teeth, his brows drawn together over his blazing eyes. " _Now_."

Livia shut her mouth so quickly that her teeth clicked together and stood from the bed, suddenly afraid again. She pulled her own shoes back on and then Trevor was roughly grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door leading outside. He threw it open with a growl and headed swiftly to the left; hauling Livia along behind him like a misbehaving child.

He took her to the next room over, Wade's room, and lifted his free hand to knock loudly. "Wade!" he shouted, his knock turning into a pound within seconds. " _Wade_! Open up, you dense motherfucker!"

She heard the lock turn and then Wade was opening the door with a frightened look on his face. "Hey, w-what's goin' on?"

"We're going for a ride," Trevor told him.

"Oh, okay," Wade replied, blinking slowly at him as he took a single step forward. "Where we goin'? Can we stop for ice cream?"

"No, not you," Trevor explained, placing one long-fingered hand on his narrow chest to stop him. "You just... you stay. Wait here. We'll be back soon, okay?"

Wade nodded and smiled as he stepped back again, "Okay." Trevor turned halfway as if to head for the stairs and Wade's voice called his attention back to him, "Can you guys bring me some ice cream on your way back?"

Trevor's left eye twitched for a moment and a low rumbling of irritation issued from his chest as he looked back at him. Livia thought he might hit him or scream at him but instead he surprised her by saying, "Err...we'll see."

Wade's smile widened and then Trevor was pulling her away, hurrying down the rickety concrete stairs and into the mostly empty parking lot below. Livia let him lead her to the car where it sat rusting on its haunches like an ancient metal beast and dropped into the passenger seat without a word of protest. She didn't know where he was taking her (for all she knew he really _was_ taking her out to get some ice cream) but she wasn't surprised to find that she didn't really care either.

It seemed that lately there was a lot she didn't care about anymore.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia watched the streets of Los Santos go past her cracked window with red-rimmed eyes that sported huge dark circles underneath. Several times she entertained the thought of opening the door and jumping out. She'd definitely hit the road hard enough to do some major damage but there was no guarantee that the impact would kill her. With her luck she'd probably end up losing a lot skin and maybe break a few bones bad enough that she'd only wish for death that much more. So, rather than leap out and hope a truck would hit her to finish the job, she stayed in her seat with her hands folded neatly in her lap and allowed herself to be chauffeured around town by a lunatic.

Trevor drove fast, pushing the old car to its limit, but he was a much better driver than most she'd had the displeasure to run across in her time. Even so, he seemed hesitant to stop at red lights or stop signs; rapidly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel until it was time to jam his foot down on the gas pedal again. He didn't speak to her and he didn't turn the radio on, his dark brown eyes narrowed in fierce concentration on the road ahead.

After another couple of minutes of watching the scenery pass by, Livia began to recognize some of the buildings. Slowly she realized that they were approaching Vespucci Beach and she felt her stomach twist in anxiety. She watched all the familiar places fly past with wide, unbelieving eyes, too stunned at the moment to say a word. There went the donut shop that Paul liked and the convenience store Livia usually gassed up at when running errands. Passing the barber shop and the bridal boutique, now they were only a block away from her apartments.

"What are you doing?" she asked finally finding her voice again as her heartbeat sped up until she could feel it in her throat; frantically beating inside of her with all the fragility of a butterfly's wings. "Why are we near my apartment?"

"We're going to settle this shit now," Trevor growled in answer, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his tattooed knuckles had turned white from the strain. "I'm not going to just sit there and watch you tear yourself apart. We're going to get you some fucking closure, sweetheart. One way or the other."

"No," she managed, almost hyperventilating now. "Please, _no_."

He let out another groan of barely-suppressed anger, his eyes bright and sparkling with malice as he looked into hers. "Yes," he said, grimacing as he looked back at the road and turned the wheel. "I don't want to have to worry night and day about you trying to off yourself over that piece of shit. I fucking _refuse_ to let that happen, you hear me?"

As he pulled up outside of the apartments she'd called home for the last seven years of her life, she reached over and clutched Trevor's hairy forearm with desperate hands, "Don't do this, Trevor. I - I didn't mean it, okay?" She was pleading with him now, panicking as she tried to smile and only managed to produce a clenched rictus of fear. "You don't have to worry about me. I - I don't want to die. We can go back to the motel and do whatever you want now, okay? Please, Trevor? _Please_?"

He shook his head with that grim look of determination still plastered on his face, " _No_. We're doing this whether you want to or not."

"I won't let you," she said, holding him tighter as tears welled up in her eyes once again. "I swear to God I won't let you make me do this." 

"You can't stop me," he told her in an oddly conversational tone of voice. He sounded as if he were speaking about something as mundane as the weather rather than referring to a situation that could possibly lead to the murder of her husband. "The wheels have been in motion since you had your heart broken by that...that _penis_." His eyes found hers then and the look on his face told her that it was too late, his mind had already been made up long ago. "This is something that has to happen or you'll never get over it. So, my dear one, you can either come with me willingly or kicking and screaming all the way. It really makes no difference to me."

"Please, Trevor," she whispered, trembling as silent tears slowly trickled down her ashen cheeks. "I don't want you to hurt him."

"Well now," he said, placing one rough hand on her cheek and using his thumb to wipe the trail of her tear away. "That's entirely up to him." He smiled and that twinkle of madness was there again; shining brighter than ever as he kissed the corner of her mouth and took her hand in his. "Come on, let's give dear ol' hubby the chance to right what's wrong, hmmm?"


	19. Chapter 19

Trevor already knew where her apartment was. He must've gone through her wallet at some point and seen her address because he led her upstairs and straight to her front door. He released her arm and drew the 9mm from the waistband of his pants.

"Knock," he instructed.

"Let's just go," she pleaded with him, helpless tears standing in her eyes. "We don't need to do this."

His free hand came up to grip the back of her neck and squeeze. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but it was more than enough to remind her of the strength in that hand. He could probably snap her neck like a pencil if he wanted to.

" _Knock_."

Livia turned away from his gaze, so frightened by the ferocious look in his eyes that her entire body was shaking like an old woman's, and raised one hand to do as he said. He released his grip on her neck and stepped off to the left; conveniently out of sight should Paul think to look out of the peephole before answering. She knocked three times, trying to keep from pounding as hard on the door as her heart was currently pounding in her chest, and stepped back a little. She waited a long moment, anxiously chewing her lower lip hard enough to taste blood, and then did it again.

When there was no answer she meant to try again but Trevor let out a frustrated growl and pushed her angrily aside. He lifted one big boot and gave the door a tremendous kick; busting through both deadbolts like they were nothing as the wooden frame on that side exploded into toothpicks.

He grabbed her elbow and marched her inside; the 9mm still gripped in his other hand. Even though it had only been a couple of days, stepping into her apartment again was almost like stepping into another world. Paul had never been big on picking up after himself and she was totally unsurprised to see that the entire place was wrecked. Dirty dishes and beer bottles were piled up near the sink, empty pizza boxes and beer cases were stacked high on the dining room table and the trashcan was overflowing onto the floor. She saw Paul's work boots next to the coat rack with mud caked so thickly on the soles that it had begun to fall apart in scattered chunks on the floor as it dried. Some things never changed.

Trevor didn't give her much of a chance to look around, though, only pulled her further into her apartment. Moving behind the couch and into the hallway, he steered her toward the open bedroom door. As they moved closer she could hear Paul's faint snoring and thought to herself that the man could sleep through a 9.5 magnitude earthquake and never move a muscle.

He released her again when they reached the threshold of her bedroom and she looked up at him, her face pinched in fear. He gestured forward with the barrel of his gun and said, "There he is, darlin'. Go on."

Livia swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat and stepped into the bedroom, pushing the door open wider as her eyes fell upon Paul's splayed form on the bed. Trevor hung back, staying in the darkened hallway as she timidly approached her sleeping husband. He was fully dressed except for his shoes and he lay facedown with a huge stream of drool flowing from one corner of his open mouth to pool near his bushy black beard. One of his long, hairy arms dangled over her side of the bed and next to his limp fingers lay an open bottle of vodka; tipped over on its side and mostly empty.

She went to him on legs that had all the strength of cooked noodles and gently laid a hand on his back. "Paul?"

He did not stir. Only continued snoring and drooling.

She gave him a shake and tried again, "Paul?"

He snorted a little and lifted one hand as if to wave off a bothersome fly but settled back again almost immediately.

She tried shaking him even harder, "Paul, get up!"

He turned his head and garbled something that sounded like 'fuck the hamburgler' before falling still once more.

" _Goddamn it, Paul! Wake up!_ " she was pounding on his back with one fist now, losing all patience with him.

Finally he grunted and cracked open one bleary hazel eye. She watched it roll over until it met hers. "Wha...Luh...Livia?"

She drew back and he struggled to turn over, flailing like a drowning man on top of the faded bedspread. He sat up, blinking rapidly, and finally looked over at her with a tad more awareness in his eyes.

"Holy shit," he breathed, all the blood rushing out of his face at the sight of her. " _Livia?_ "

His eyes ran over her as if he could barely believe what he was seeing. He reached out for her and touched her hand with one of his own.

"Yeah," she said, drawing her hand away. "It's me."

Paul swung both of his long legs over the side of the bed and stood, his gait unsteady as he came around the side for her. She allowed him to wrap his arms around her as his thick beard scraped over her forehead and then he was crushing her against him in a tight hug.

"Oh God, Livia," he breathed into her hair; his breath smelling so strongly of vodka that it made her eyes water. "I missed you so much."

"I didn't want to come here," she said, letting him hug her but making no attempt to hug him back. "This wasn't my idea."

Paul drew back and, as she looked into his unfocused eyes, she realized that he was quite obviously still as drunk as a skunk. He must've went straight for the vodka after the phonecall. He'd apparently gotten rid of the girl he'd brought home because she didn't see anyone else there but he hadn't actually bothered taking that extra step and calling the police like he'd said he was going to. She knew Paul had a record and his own 'fuck cops' way of thinking since long before they'd ever met. Maybe he'd been afraid that they wouldn't believe him or that he'd become a suspect in her disappearance and possibly get himself in trouble somehow. Either way, the fact that he would worry more about his own well being than hers brought fresh misery to her already tortured heart.

"Did you ever love me or was it all bullshit?" she asked, her lower lip trembling as she looked up into the face of the man she would've died for only a week ago. "How could you do that to me? How could you cheat on me?"

She watched the confusion overtake his features, his eyes running over her once more and seeming not to notice her rainbow of bruises or haggard appearance. Sputtering for a second before finding his voice, he asked, "What are you talking about? I - I swear, I never..." He paused, shaking his head, and the look of drunken bewilderment on his face deepened, "Wait...where have you been all this time?"

"Nevermind that right now," Livia said, grabbing his sleeve and giving him a shake as if she were trying to wake him up again. "Don't change the subject, Paul. I want to know why you'd do that to me. I want to know why you'd cheat on me. Wasn't I enough for you? Didn't I give you everything you asked for?"

Paul's mouth opened and closed several times before he managed to speak, "I didn't cheat on you, baby. That's crazy. You... you're talking crazy." He gave a phony laugh as if to show how silly she was being. "I love you. I would never do that to you."

"You're lying," she said, the tears coursing down her cheeks as she shook her head and felt that dull blade stab into her heart once again. "You're _still_ lying to me." Her upper lip curled up in disgust as she looked up at him again and scoffed, "You really are a piece of work, aren't you?" 

She saw the realization dawn in his eyes that she wasn't going to buy it this time. No matter what he said, no matter how many lies he cast out there, he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of it. She'd finally seen him for what he really was and the shit-eating grin on his face slipped away; his eyes narrowing on hers as she tried to step away from him.

Now his hands tightened on her shoulders hard enough to hurt, "Livia, will you just listen to me?! I didn't do anything! I - I barely even touched her! I swear it on my mother!"

"I can't believe you'd do that to me and still lie right to my face," Livia sneered at him as she tried to pull away again. When his hands only held her harder she began to struggle and yelled, "Let go of me, Paul!"

But Paul wouldn't let go; only forced her closer as she tried harder than ever to pull away. "You're not going anywhere!" he shouted suddenly; his voice harsh and commanding; something she had almost always responded to with immediate obedience all through their sixteen years together. "You're going to _listen_ to me, goddamn it!"

But she wasn't going to listen. Not this time.

"No! Fuck you, Paul!" she shouted back, losing what little restraint she had left and wildly slapping at his face with both hands; actually landing a couple of decent blows before he could manage to deflect them. "I won't listen to any more of your lies! I - _I never want to see you again_!!"

Trevor chose that exact moment to speak up from the shadows outside of their bedroom, "Well, that can certainly be arranged."

Her husband's reaction was to grab her even harder and then push her behind him as Trevor entered the bedroom with the 9mm held before him. Then, the picture of ridiculousness, Paul raised both of his fists as if to somehow defend against the bullets that way. He was a large man, an inch taller than Trevor and strong from long days spent doing hard manual labor, but the mass quantity of liquor he'd consumed only a few hours before had him at a huge disadvantage; drastically slowing down his reaction time and making him unsteady on his feet. Even if Trevor put the gun away and Paul got an opportunity to defend himself, he was way too drunk to make much use of it.

"Who the fuck are you?" he barked, furious at this unexpected intrusion...on the surface, at least. Beneath his angry tone she sensed the great depth of his fear lurking there and knew that Trevor was probably able to pick up on it too.

"We spoke earlier," Trevor replied, his own tone deceptively calm as he smiled and stepped closer. "Don't you remember? I'm the guy that's been fucking your wife."

She heard her husband's sharp intake of breath. _Now_ he remembered. She wondered if he had always been this stupid and she'd just chosen not to see it all this time or if he'd actually drank so much alcohol that he had somehow managed to block that entire phone conversation from his memory.

"Get out!" he yelled, attempting to sound threatening and only sounding bewildered and scared. Livia wasn't too surprised...Trevor seemed to have that effect on people.

Trevor's smile had never looked more frightening, never held such promise of pain and sorrow as it did in that moment as he halved the distance between them, "You gonna make me, Paul?"

Paul's mouth trembled around the corners as he shouted, "Fuck you, you...you grungy motherfucker!!"

Trevor's lips skinned back from his teeth as he leaped across the last few feet separating them and smashed the butt of the 9mm against her husband's temple. Paul attempted to swing at him but he was far too slow; punching nothing but air as the unyielding metal crashed into his skull and sent him to his knees with a grunt.

" _No!_ " Livia yelped, starting forward.

She tried to grab Paul, help him stand, but Trevor shoved her away with his free hand, "Don't you _dare_ fucking help him!"

She landed hard on her ass, the small of her back painfully striking the nightstand and causing the lamp she'd picked up at a thrift store for five bucks to rock back and forth precariously on the edge; somehow managing not to fall over. She groaned and sat up as Paul held one hand to his aching temple and also struggled to stay upright.

Livia heard a feral-sounding growl emit from Trevor and then he was grabbing Paul's sweaty black hair with one hand, forcing her husband's head up until the barrel of the gun was pressed right up under his chin.

"You've gotta be one of the _dumbest_ fucks of all the dumbfucks I've ever met," Trevor hissed, his black eyes narrowed on Paul's. "You think you'll still be a tough guy with a couple of extra holes in you? I could give your head a fucking sunroof right now. Whaddaya say?"

Livia got to her feet once more, her legs shaking so hard that her knees were almost knocking together, and tried again, "Leave him alone, Trevor!"

He looked up at her with eyes that blazed from beneath his thunderous brow, "For fuck's sake, I'm doing this for you, Livia!"

She took a step forward and tried to keep Trevor's attention on her, "No, you're not! You're doing this for _you_!" Trying not to show him how scared she was, to show this maniac nothing but anger because she knew her tears would never sway him, she stepped even closer. "Let go of him _right now_!"

His hand tightened in Paul's hair and he ran the tip of his tongue under his lower lip as his nostrils flared in anger. His eyes held that familiar sparkle of unpredictable madness in them but he looked uncertain as he shot back, "Why do you want to protect him? Did you already forget about what he did to you? How he lied? How he _betrayed_ you?"

"I didn't forget," she said with a desperate shake of her head. "But hurting him won't fix it, either. It won't help anything, Trevor!"

Paul, belligerent as ever, let out a sluggish groan and his words slurred even worse than before as he said, "Get yer goddamn hans offa me, you fuggin' freak."

She saw Trevor's look of doubt clear just as quickly as it had surfaced and he raised the gun to hit him again. Livia didn't think, only reacted, and rushed him. She grabbed his arm and bent it up higher, as far away from Paul as possible, " _No! I said leave him alone_!"

Trevor released Paul's hair and shoved her away from him again, harder this time, and she flew backwards like a ragdoll; landing on the bed in a graceless heap.

"You know, sometimes it's like I don't understand you at all, darlin'. You should want this even more than I do," Trevor growled at her. "He's the one who started this. Not me." He turned away from her and focused his attention back on Paul, "You owe your wife an apology, you nasty little fuck, and I mean to see she gets it."

Paul swayed on his knees as he shook his head, "Fug you."

She heard the thud as Trevor hit her husband again and she somehow got to her feet as Paul cried out in renewed agony. She saw the fresh blood splashed across Trevor's shirt and came forward yelling, "Stop it!"

"Tell her you're sorry!" Trevor screamed, hitting Paul across the face with the butt of his gun again. "Tell her before I beat you to fucking _death_!"

Her husband could no longer support himself and he only stayed up because Trevor's hand gripped his thick black hair in one fist and held him there. The blood smeared across his face and pouring out of his mouth and nose made him almost totally unrecognizable. He moaned but there were no words said; it was only a long, drawn out sound of confused pain.

" _Stop it_!!!" Livia screamed again, her hands tangling in her hair and pulling. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop Trevor now, if anything she would only be adding fuel to the fire if she tried to rush him again, yet she couldn't stop herself from this desperate cry for an end to this insanity. " _Please, Trevor! Stop_!!!"

But of course Trevor ignored her. He was completely swallowed up in that red mist of fury now and she might as well not even have opened her mouth. Nothing mattered to him but getting what he wanted out of the bloody man kneeling below him; Trevor really would beat Paul to death if he continued resisting. He hit him one last time and ordered, " _Tell her! Tell her, you stubborn fuck! Say that you're sorry!_ " 

Paul only let out another painful groan and bled onto the carpet.

" _ **SAY IT!!!**_ " Trevor roared, his teeth clenched as he racked the slide and put the barrel of the gun right between Paul's eyes. " _ **SAY IT OR I SWEAR TO ALL THAT'S HOLY YOU'RE A FUCKING DEAD MAN!!!**_ "

Blood poured from her husband's broken mouth as his eyes rolled like a frightened horse's and he sputtered, "I'm s-sorry, baby. Sorry." He was so out of it now that she doubted he even knew what he was apologizing for anymore.

Trevor mimed cupping his gun hand behind his ear and leaned down, his mouth stretched into a cruel smile, "What's that? Spit that shit outta your mouth and speak up, asshole!"

Paul managed to speak a little louder this time, "I'm sorry. I did'n mean to..." He began to cry; huge, shuddering sobs that hurt her to hear even though most of her still wanted to hate him. "I'm so fuggin' sorry, Livia."

Trevor released his tight grip on his hair and Paul continued sobbing as he finally slumped over to one side. He rested his battered face against the rough carpet, his sobs quickly growing faint, and his eyes blinked a few more times before growing unfocused and slipping closed again.

"Oh my God," Livia whispered, her hands clutching the collar of her shirt and twisting as she stared at the humped up form of her husband with unbelieving eyes. "You fucking lunatic...why...why did you do that?" Her voice began to rise into a hoarse shout as her eyes found Trevor's again, "You didn't have to do that! You didn't have to fucking kill him!!"

Trevor came for her and grabbed her by one shoulder, "Don't be so dramatic, darlin'. I didn't step on that cockroach hard enough to kill him. He'll pull through." His hand loosened a bit and he actually smiled at her, "Come on. It's time to make like a banana and get the fuck outta here."

Livia defiantly tore her shoulder from his grip and said, "No, Trevor! He needs an ambulance! He needs _help_!"

She turned as if to walk away but he grabbed her again, harder this time, his fingers digging into her flesh much the same as Paul's had only minutes before. "You've helped that scumbag out enough," he growled down into her face. "Now, _come on_. I'm not asking you again."

Staring into the black holes of Trevor's eyes, Livia quickly lost whatever desire she'd had in her to resist. What was she going to do anyway? She wasn't a nurse and she didn't know how to help Paul. And why should she take the chance of pushing Trevor even further off of the deep end? Why risk Trevor's wrath turning toward her again? She may still harbor some love for Paul but after tonight she wouldn't risk her neck for him. She wouldn't die for him...not anymore.

So she took Trevor's hand in hers and allowed him to pull her toward the door leading out. Before they were fully past the broken remains of her husband, however, she stopped and suddenly grabbed her left hand. She tore her wedding ring off and threw it at him; bouncing it off of his bloody, beaten forehead and watching as it rolled away into the shadows under the bed.

"I hope it was worth it," she whispered, not caring that he couldn't hear her. "Because I'm never coming back." She drew herself up to her full height and wiped her face free of tears, "Goodbye, Paul."

Then Trevor was nodding approvingly and leading her out of her old apartment as she heard the sound of police sirens spring up in the night outside. She'd meant what she said, she wouldn't come back. Even if Trevor decided to let her go tomorrow, she would never darken Paul's doorway again.


	20. Chapter 20

Once they were back on the road and far from the approaching sirens, Trevor broke the silence between them and asked, "Do I still have to worry about you trying to swallow a fucking razorblade or what?"

"No," she answered. "You don't have to worry about me, I promise."

"Great," he grunted. "Mission accomplished."

"But you didn't have to hurt him, Trevor," she said, unable to stop herself. "It...it didn't need to go that far."

He didn't take his eyes off of the road as he replied, "It didn't go far enough, if you ask me."

Livia shook her head, rejecting this notion, "Paul may be a fucking jerk but he didn't deserve that."

She saw his blood-splattered hands tighten on the wheel a moment. "Ah, you're too fucking soft," he returned, clearly irritated by her stubbornness. He shot a dark glance in her direction before quickly looking away again, "You really think he didn't have that coming? Not even a little?"

"No," she answered with another deliberate shake of her head. "He could've _died_."

He growled and stomped on the brakes as they reached a red light; causing the seat belt to tighten painfully across her chest. " _Fuck him_ ," he said, turning those blazing black eyes toward her once more. "I hope he does fucking die. Anyway...what do you care? He _lied_ to you. He _cheated_ on you. He stomped on your heart like it was nothing, Livia. I'd have been more than happy to skin him alive if you'd asked me to."

She looked back into his eyes and tried not to drop her gaze first. Maybe it was unwise to challenge him but she just couldn't ignore the elephant in the room any longer. Trying her best to keep her voice from trembling with fear, she said, "You're so concerned about what Paul did but...what about what you've done to me, Trevor? Haven't you done a lot worse? Does that mean you're going to pistol whip yourself half to death next?"

Now he was the one shaking his head; his black eyes betraying no sense of guilt or remorse whatsoever behind them. "I never lied to you about who I was, Livia. I never pretended for a single moment that I was a good man...not like that lying snake you married." His eyes narrowed on hers and he smiled that wicked smile of his again; the chilly one that made her feel weak and small and totally unprepared for whatever might come next. "Besides...you knew what I was, darlin'. I could see it in your eyes. You knew from the get-go exactly what kind of devil you were making a deal with. Didn't you?"

Slowly she nodded. She couldn't speak now; her throat had tightened down until she could scarcely draw breath. He was right. She'd known what Trevor was within seconds of meeting him. She hadn't even needed to see his face.

The light turned green and he looked away from her again; urging the car forward as it backfired and belched dark smoke from its tailpipe. She could sense that he had more to say so she waited, patiently watching him as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and scowled out at the dark street before them. After a long time spent thinking about what he wanted to say, he finally spoke again; darting little glances at her now and then as if to make sure she was still listening.

"Okay, so maybe I was a little...overzealous in the beginning of our relationship," Trevor allowed, sounding unhappy with this whole conversation but nonetheless determined to speak his piece. "Could I have treated you nicer? Sure, I could've. But you didn't give me a lot of reason to, either. Did you, sweet cheeks?"

When she only looked at him, totally expressionless, he let out a heavy sigh that quickly turned into a frustrated growl as he rubbed a hand through his thinning hair.

He seemed to struggle internally with himself a moment before finally continuing, "Err...look, I can say I'm sorry over and over until I'm blue in the face but I can't take that back. Nothing I say or do can take any of that back. I _can_ guarantee you, however, that I'm never going to do to you what that fucker did. You don't have to worry about me lying to you or two-timing you. When I say I love someone, and I _do_ , I'll go to the ends of the fucking earth to prove it. And I swear I...I'm going to try my best not to hurt you ever again." He paused a moment and his scowl deepened; the corner of his mouth twitching a few times before becoming still once more. "Not...you know...not if I can help it anyway."

Livia only sat there with her hands in her lap and watched the dark streets of Los Santos pass by around his head; having absolutely no idea how to respond to any of this. She doubted Trevor could ever understand just how fucking crazy he really was.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was around four that morning when they got back to the motel and, after taking a quick shower to clean her husband's blood from their bodies, they lay down together in the dark. They didn't speak a word to each other but soon after she felt Trevor's hand slide up her thigh and grip her hip. She could hear how his breathing deepened and seconds later he was pressing himself into her backside; the heat of his stiffening member bleeding through the thin fabric of their underclothes.

"I hope you really are feeling better now," he whispered into her ear, causing a huge crop of goosebumps to flourish all along her exposed skin. "Because I gotta tell you, I'm starting to get a bad case of blue balls over here."

Livia felt her heart begin to pound as his hand slipped over to play with the waistband of her panties for a moment before sliding his fingers under just a little and tickling her skin.

"Trevor..." she could barely even hear her own voice as she whispered back. "I don't....I mean, I just..."

She heard his throaty chuckle at this and the fading goosebumps returned in full force before they could disappear completely.

"That's okay," he returned, sounding as if he were smiling. "I understand, sweetheart. Really, I do. It's been a long, stressful night, hasn't it? You wanna take a little break." She felt his hand slip between them as he took his now fully erect cock out of his underwear. "That's fine with me. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to. I can take care of it all by myself."

Livia felt him begin to stroke himself and shuddered as his hot breath blew right into the cup of her ear. "Please," she whispered. "I just wanted to go to sl-."

"Shhhh," he interrupted, his voice thicker now as desire began taking hold. "I'm not gonna put it in unless you want me to. This won't hurt and it won't take long, I promise."

She fell silent, her last protest forgotten as Trevor's fist and the tip of his cock stabbed into her backside periodically while he continued pleasuring himself. Time seemed to slow down and she closed her eyes as he groaned into her ear and his other arm snaked under her pillow and around her neck; his hand dropping down until her right breast rested in his palm. He gently squeezed her tit, the speed of his strokes quickening, and shivered as he groaned behind her. Then he was pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, slowly increasing the pressure more and more until she was squirming against him.

"You like that?" Trevor panted into her ear as he pinched down harder and caused her to let out a hollow moan of her own. "Yeah," he growled approvingly. "You like that. I can tell."

Livia bit her lip to keep quiet as Trevor pinched and pulled and teased her nipple until it had become swollen; his ceaseless attention sending waves of pleasure cascading down into her lower belly. He carried on this slow torture for an endless amount of time, watching her squirm and smiling that demented smile of his. Then, without warning, she felt Trevor release himself long enough to pull down the back of her panties; nearly tearing the cheap cotton in his haste. He began rubbing the head of his cock slowly back and forth over her buttocks; smearing a line of pre-cum wherever it touched.

"You don't know how hard it is for me to hold back right now," he admitted, squeezing her nipple almost hard enough to hurt. "I wanna fuck you until you scream for me'."

She whimpered fearfully as he nudged against her ass hard and she heard him chuckle behind her as he began to stroke himself once more. He shushed her and kissed on her neck, just below her ear; the almost tender gesture actually managing to calm her some even as Trevor's efforts grew wilder. 

She closed her eyes and let him do what he wanted, listening to him moan and murmur dirty things in her ear the entire time. She tried to ignore the slowly increasing slickness she felt between her own thighs; feeling guilty for succumbing to Trevor's undeniably bestial nature yet again. She suddenly hated herself with bitter passion; thinking that she deserved every bit of sorrow and pain that she'd experienced so far. That she deserved even worse punishment for being such a sick, depraved and abhorrent creature.

She shouldn't feel anything down there. She should practically be dead below the waist after everything that had happened on this long night. She'd just witnessed her husband be beaten nearly to death by this madman and there hadn't been a moment spent with him yet that she didn't regret but...

She couldn't help the way Trevor's voice saying those horribly wonderful words in her ear made her feel. She couldn't help how her skin flushed or her clit throbbed or the way the feel of the tip of his cock nudging against her again and again made her want to arch her hips up so that he quit fucking around already and just do what they both wanted. It was disquietingly hard for her to hold back too and she only did so out of a lingering sense of shame and guilt.

Livia felt Trevor release himself and push his hips forward; the head of his cock slipping between her thighs with ease. He felt the moisture gathering there and chuckled in her ear again, "You may say you're not in the mood but...new evidence appears to suggest otherwise." He withdrew his dick suddenly and reached down to slip a finger into her warmth; making her cry out against the pillow beneath her head.

"Come on, sugarpie, you know you want it," he cajoled softly, nearly panting now as he added a second finger to the first. "I shouldn't be the only one having all the fun here."

"I can't," Livia gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she shook her head and her blush deepened into a shade of dusky rose.

"Why not?" Trevor asked, pushing his fingers in until he was rubbing that deep, sensitive spot and making her squirm more than ever.

"It...it wouldn't be right," she managed, totally unaware that she was slowly opening her thighs even more for him; allowing him better access to what he wanted.

"Who gets to decide what's right and what's wrong?" he grunted amiably, kissing the lobe of her ear and sending a jagged sliver of cold down her back. "Sometimes there's a lot of grey area in between the two, Livia."

He was making it so hard for her for her think at all now. "But...Trevor..."

"Shhhh," he hushed again, his voice once more a confident purr. He had her right where he wanted her. He only needed to nudge her a little more and he knew it. "It's okay, darlin'. You don't have to fight it anymore."

Livia felt the last bit of her self-control finally snap and she whispered, "Okay, Trevor. Just...just go easy. Please?"

"Of course," he whispered, trailing kisses from her ear to her throat. "I can do that for you, darlin'. Whatever you want." 

She gasped as he withdrew his fingers and then he was pulling her panties off entirely before he lifted her top leg higher as he scooted his hips down an inch or two. She shivered with dread and anticipation as she felt the head of his cock rub along her slit a few times; taking pleasure in teasing both of them. Fortunately, he quickly tired of this and slid all the way into her with a low growl. She let out a soft cry of pleasure and arched her back so that Trevor could fit even more of his hardness inside of her as he strained his hips forward.

He was slow at first, moving as if he actually were trying his best to be gentle, but within minutes he just couldn't restrain himself anymore and began to speed up. Livia tried to muffle her moan of ecstasy against the pillow but Trevor slid his arm under her head again and gripped her face so that she couldn't turn away. He wanted to hear every sound that escaped her; feeding off of her as his thrusts became more brutal and careless. She heard him groan and his other fingers dug into her thigh as he lifted her leg even higher; sliding himself in and out of her with no resistance whatsoever.

Livia felt his hand slide up from where it had been gripping her thigh and then he was parting her lips with his fingers. He fumbled only a moment before he was rubbing slow circles around the taut nub of her clitoris; making her moan even louder. He pressed his face into her shoulder and let out an almost angry-sounding growl, shuddering as he felt her twitching around his shaft. Livia had not one clear thought running through her head as she lay her hand over his and pressed it down even harder; encouraging his finger to rub in alternating circles as she felt herself edging closer and closer towards that blissful release. She was only acting on pure instinct now; all worry and fear had been swept away by the rising tide of dark lust inside her. Soon she would drown in it and it would be very much like a slow death.

"Oh, Trevor," she gasped, her breathing becoming more and more labored as her heart pounded in her ears like war drums. "Don't stop. Please....oh, please, don't."

He grunted again and it quickly turned into a keening kind of moan as he somehow managed to thrust harder and faster into her; making the heat build in her core until she felt as though she would somehow burn them both. He was growing more wild, more desperate, and as Livia threw her head back and cried out in pleasure, she heard him growl against her shoulder and suddenly he was biting down on the meaty part of her bicep.

Somehow the pain of his teeth sinking into her skin was the catalyst that brought her over to the other side; clenching up around him as white stars flashed behind her eyes and her body stiffened against him. The pleasure and pain mixed together until she was unsure which was which and she felt tears begin to trickle down her face. Trevor reacted to her orgasm by biting down even harder; his hips snapping back and forth rhythmlessly as his hands crushed down on her in a brutally tight grip. She felt an explosion of warmth inside of her just as the last of her own pleasure coursed through her body and she called out his name once; the word leaving her lips like a cry for mercy.

After a long moment Trevor released his hold on her; withdrawing his hands and teeth from her with a convulsive shudder. Livia heard him grunt in surprise and then he lightly kissed the place where he'd bitten her almost hard enough to draw blood, as if trying to soothe the damage he'd done. Afterward, she felt his arms go around her once more, clinging to her as she tried to catch her breath and struggled to think clearly again.

"I didn't mean to do that, darlin'." he told her, still panting harshly as his heart pounded against her back. "Really, I didn't. I got carried away. My bad."

She felt him snuggling up close so that he could press his face against the side of her throat as she whispered the only thing she could think of to say, "It's...uh, it's okay. At least you tried, right?"

Livia felt his lips curve into another smile as he nodded and his arms wrapped around her middle tighter than before; his seed slowly trickling out from between her bare thighs to leave her feeling sticky and slightly nauseated. Even with Trevor's repeated declarations of love and his apparent first efforts at gentleness, she felt no safer than she had since this had all started. If anything, she was probably in more danger than she'd ever been. The throbbing pain from his teeth clamping down on her was only the freshest reminder of how easily he could lose control of himself; how quickly his mood could shift from one extreme to another. If she didn't tread carefully it would be 'I love you' one minute and then his hands would be wrapping around her throat the next.

Eventually Livia drifted away in his embrace but her state of rest was not at all easy. Her dreams were full of blood and pain; like bad omens of the future ahead of her.


	21. Chapter 21

When Livia woke up around noon to find Trevor's head on her chest she had to blink a few times before she was entirely convinced that her eyes were not deceiving her. Yeah, that was him, all right. Passed out with his mouth open as he snored softly and blew a wave of sour beer breath right into her face. He had stripped down to nothing but his skivvies and he was cuddling her the way a small child might do with a favorite stuffed animal; one arm thrown across her middle and one leg wrapped around hers. It was fitting, she thought. What was she to Trevor if not his new favorite toy?

Even so, she'd never seen him asleep before and had definitely never seen him so still. It was strange and a bit funny to finally witness him at peace like this. She tilted her head to see him better and let out a breathless huff of laughter. From this angle he didn't look so much like the profoundly disturbed and dangerous person that he actually was. Even with the myriad of scabs and bruises covering him, he could almost pass for a normal man.

Looking away from him, she quickly lost what little interest she had in what Trevor did or didn't look like and made an attempt to move. She tried to scoot to the left and put a little distance between them but Trevor was larger and heavier than her so his body pretty much anchored her to the bed. Frustrated with this failed attempt to dislodge herself, she reached up with both hands to try and somehow push him only to find out a moment later that she couldn't move her left one very far before something around her wrist stopped her with a metallic jingle. She looked over to see that he had secured her to the bed rail by way of two sets of handcuffs that had been linked together to form a short chain. Trevor must've known this crash was coming, must've felt it on some level to prepare like this, but God only knew how long he'd been awake...or how long he would be asleep. He was practically dead to the world and would more than likely stay that way for quite some time.

"Son of a _bitch_." Livia yanked experimentally on her makeshift chain again only to earn herself a bit of pain in doing so. The bruises circling her wrists had grown less obvious but the flesh was still quite tender; just a fading reminder of Trevor's initial brutality.

Her anger at being trapped like this steadily increased as she wondered where in the blue fuck had he gotten handcuffs from. Had he gone out on a cop-killing spree while she'd been asleep? It wouldn't surprise her at all if he had, something like that seemed to be right up his alley. On the other hand...it wasn't exactly difficult to get a set of handcuffs. They probably sold them at every adult entertainment store in LS.

She looked back down at Trevor and pushed at his head, "Hey!"

Nothing. No response or reaction from him at all.

She tried pushing harder, " _Hey!!_ " And again, nothing. He still didn't budge. If it weren't for his steady breathing she would've thought he was dead.

Tears formed in her eyes as she realized it was hopeless. She couldn't move even if Trevor's arm and leg rolled off of her. He'd made sure she couldn't go further than a step or two from her side of the bed. She was stuck until he woke up and uncuffed her.

"You know, just when I think you can't reach new levels of shitheadedness," she said to his sleeping form. "There you are, lowering the bar yet again."

Trevor shifted a little and his arm squeezed her ribs until it was borderline painful but his eyelids never so much as fluttered.

Livia let out a disgusted sigh and tried to get a little more comfortable but even that was impossible. She might as well have had a boulder pinning one side of her body. She wiped the angry tears away from her eyes with her untethered hand and then closed them; trying to will herself to go back to sleep. At least sleep would make the time pass more quickly.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia caught a bit of a break and actually managed to sleep for a few more hours. That was until she woke up on her side with Trevor's boner jammed in the crack of her ass; poking her so hard that she knew it would leave another bruise. But that wasn't her only problem because she also had to pee. It wasn't bad but it would soon get that way. She hadn't used the restroom since before they'd left to confront Paul. She tried to shift a little and winced when the stone-like thing behind her poked her again.

"Goddamn you, Trevor," she raised her voice in a shout. "Wake up!"

His only response was to poke her harder and the hand that was lying on her ribcage slid up a little to cup the mound of her breast and squeeze before he stilled once more.

"Please, Trevor," she pleaded, knowing it was hopeless but trying anyway. "Please! Wake up and let me go to the bathroom!"

This time there was nothing other than a light snoring behind her as his breath stirred the hair lying over her neck.

Time passed and the throbbing of her bladder grew steadily worse. Trevor eventually released her and rolled away but when she tried to stand she couldn't get more than a single step from the bed. She didn't see his pants near her to search for the handcuffs key, nor anything else useful that was in reach. She couldn't even piss in the corner if things really got desperate.

So she tried to ignore it, tried to think of anything but the pain in her middle, but as the hours dragged on it became nearly unbearable. The need to void her bladder was so strong that there was a moment when she thought she might piss the bed despite all her trying not to and she had to squeeze her thighs together so tightly that her whole body shook from it. She managed to hold it in the end but she didn't know how much longer she would be able to do so. It looked like she'd either have to piss on the floor like a bad dog or wet herself like a baby.

Feeling hopeless, Livia began to cry again; those same bitter tears of pain and humiliation that hurt on so many different levels. It wasn't too much to ask for a little dignity, was it? To hold on to just a little bit of her pride? What had she ever done to deserve any of this? To be stripped of her humanity piece by piece until she was nothing but a pathetic, sniveling ball with some maniac's dick stabbing her periodically as she fought desperately to keep from losing control of her bodily functions? She hardly felt like the same person she had been only a week ago. She hardly felt like a person at all anymore.

Eventually she ended up crying herself back to sleep like an overtired child; hugging herself as she huddled into a tight ball.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was near dark before she woke again. She came to and realized that Trevor was no longer beside her but she was still handcuffed to the bed rail. She turned over and immediately cried out from the sharp pain in her lower abdomen. Her bladder was so full that it felt like it had been stretched drum-tight inside of her; close to bursting. She had to squeeze her legs together yet again to keep from urinating on her side of the lumpy mattress and yelled, " _Trevor_!!"

She heard a footstep and then he was poking his head out of the bathroom, "What?"

"Let me the fuck out of this!" she demanded, groaning in pain as she rattled the handcuffs to illustrate. "I'm about to piss myself!"

She heard his rapid footsteps and then the jingle of keys as he bent down and unlocked the one around her wrist. She shoved him aside in her haste to stand, nearly knocking him over, and sprinted for the bathroom. She made it just in time, shucking off her underwear and sitting down a split second before hot liquid came pouring out.

It was painful at first and she bit her knuckle against it, bending over in an effort to help void her bladder faster. As she peed longer and harder than she could ever remember doing before, she saw Trevor poke his head around the corner to look in at her.

"Everything coming out all right, darlin'?"

"Ha ha ha! You're fucking hilarious!" Livia snarled at him, reaching over and slamming the door in his face.

When she was finally done she pulled off the rest of her clothes and jumped in the shower. She began to wash herself with a tiny bar of soap and a washcloth; scrubbing her skin harder and harder as if she could wash away the humiliation and despair she'd been forced to endure today. At one point she thought she heard the motel room door open and then voices talking to each other but she assumed it was Wade and thought nothing more of it.

When she stepped out of the bathroom with a skimpy towel wrapped around her, however, she saw a young black man sitting at the table next to the door. He looked over at her and the shock on his face made her duck into the bathroom again; moving so fast that her bare feet skidded on the tiles and she almost fell.

"Oh!" she cried out, her cheeks flaming red as she hid behind the door. "Who the fuck are you?!"

She heard the man at the table clear his throat and then she was grabbing her clothes from the floor, tugging the half-wet t-shirt over her head. "Hey, no need to be alarmed. I'm Franklin," he said, sounding as if he felt just as embarrassed as she did. "I'm Trevor's friend. You're, uh, Livia, right?"

She peeked out at him and saw that he had gotten no closer, only stood with his back facing the bathroom door. "That's me," she said, glancing around the room as if scanning for more surprise visitors. "Where's Trevor?"

"He went to get some cash out of the machine around the corner," he replied, gesturing toward the door leading out with one hand for emphasis. "He's coming right back, though."

"Could you...could you possibly grab the bag from the dresser for me? The one closest to left side of the TV?"

Franklin kept his back to her as he side-stepped over to the chest of drawers that the TV sat on. He grabbed the plastic bag with the Binco logo on one side and then brought it over; looking down at his feet and letting one hand hover over his eyes so he wouldn't accidentally glance up at her. He handed it over and she snatched it out of his hand with a quick "Thanks" before shutting the door again.

She heard Frank mutter something to himself on his side of the cheap wood separating them and then, to her, "Look, I didn't see nothin', all right? Don't go telling Trevor I was eyeing you. His crazy ass is liable to overreact and I _really_ don't need that kind of shit in my life right now."

"Don't worry," she called back as she hopped on one foot to put on a pair of clean underwear. "You didn't see anything. Even if you had, I'm not an idiot. Trevor would be just as mad at me so consider my lips sealed."

"Yeah, okay. Thank you," he said, already moving away from the door and back toward the other side of the room.

Livia finished dressing and came out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her hair this time. Franklin was hesitant to look over at first but when he saw she was fully clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, he began to study her with curious and seemingly intelligent brown eyes.

"So you're Trevor's girlfriend, huh?" he asked, raising one eyebrow as he looked her up and down. "Lamar told me about you but I thought that nigga was bullshittin' me."

Livia gave a nervous half-smile and shrugged, "His girlfriend. Yeah, you could say that...or, you know, his hostage. Whatever works for you."

Franklin's eyes widened and she thought to herself that he was a handsome young man. Far better looking than that Lamar fellow, anyway. He looked put together rather well with that square jaw, perfectly symmetrical features, broad shoulders and narrow hips. She'd bet her hard earned money that this one had a few girlfriends of his own.

"You for real?"

She nodded as she set her bag of clothes back on top of the dresser where it had been, "Yeah, I mean, I _was_. Now...I don't know."

Franklin seemed at a loss for words for a moment. Then he shook his head and rubbed at the clean-shaven line of his jaw, "It, uh, sounds complicated."

Livia gave a wan smile and took the towel off of her hair, "I guess it is."

She could feel Franklin's eyes on her as she finished drying her hair and started working on it with the hairbrush. He still seemed to be trying to think of something to say when the door opened and Trevor came strolling back in. Livia was about to curse him, tell him never to chain her up like a dog again, but the look on his face made her bite it back before she could even open her mouth.

Trevor never really looked put together but today he looked worse than ever. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and she could see that the knuckles on his right hand were bleeding. His head hung as if the muscles in his neck just couldn't support the weight of his head and he clawed at one of his arms until his fingernails left long red marks up and down his skin.

After giving her a long sour look, he reached into his back pocket and produced a thick white envelope. He tossed it over to Franklin who caught it deftly in one hand and opened it, counting the bills inside. Trevor let out an irritated-sounding growl and said, "Goddamned machine wouldn't let me pull out anymore. I'll get the rest of it to you soon, Frank. I promise."

Franklin looked up from the envelope and nodded, "Sure, dog. I know you will."

"I'm sorry about your house," Trevor sighed, rubbing at his creased forehead with one shaking hand. "I didn't know the sneaky fuckers were following me or I would've dealt with them beforehand."

Franklin nodded and stood, stuffing the envelope in the back pocket of his own jeans. He shifted a little, straightening the black hoodie he wore over a plain white shirt, and said, "Shit, man, I hate to be like this but I gotta head out. Don't worry about getting the rest of the money to me right now. It's gonna take a while before I can even get someone over to look at the house. Then I gotta get repair estimates and deal with a whole lot of other bullshit before we even get started. Just...get the money to me when you can, alright? I know you're good for it."

Trevor nodded as well and his scowl deepened as he said, "I really am sorry about your house, kid. I never meant to bring this shit down on your doorstep."

Franklin shrugged and raised one hand to shake Trevor's, pulling him into a half-hug at the end, "What's done is done. I'm not even tripppin' about it. I'll catch you later, homie."

One corner of Trevor's mouth lifted in a tiny smile, "You betcha. We gotta go out and get shitfaced together. It's been too long."

Franklin nodded and stepped away, toward Livia, "Yeah, alright. Hit me up sometime." Then he was lifting a hand toward her. "Nice meeting you, girl. You take care of my boy, okay? Keep his ass in line. God knows he needs someone to."

Livia took his hand in hers and shook it, smiling a little herself, "Nice to meet you, too. And I'll...I'll try my best."

Franklin chuckled a little at that and released her hand, moving for the door already. Trevor waved at him one last time and then he was gone; leaving Trevor and Livia alone in their crappy motel room.

When Trevor's attention turned to her once more his smile disappeared and the scowl came back. "Get your shoes on," he said, moving for the bathroom. "We gotta go."

"Where?"

"You ask too many fucking questions." He let out a frustrated growl and she heard the toilet seat go up with a bang before he unzipped and began urinating. He let out a sigh and then said, "I'm gonna be honest with you, darlin'. I'm not feeling too great right now. My head's killing me, my whole body fucking hurts...I gotta score some crystal quick. Hair of the dog, you know?"

Livia sighed heavily and went to find her shoes.


	22. Chapter 22

They'd spent all night driving around trying to score some meth without a bit of luck. It was nearing midnight and Trevor was growing more and more agitated; clawing at his skin now and then and smoking like a chimney all the while. Livia knew he wasn't in a good place right now so she kept her mouth shut and sat in the passenger seat, silently watching the scenery pass them by. When he asked her if she was hungry she nodded wearily so he pulled into the next 24/7 they saw and parked the Albany out front.

They went inside and Trevor started grabbing things like prepacked sandwich halves, chips, soda and candy; not really caring what it was as long as it vaguely resembled food. Livia helped carry as much as she could to the counter and they set it all down in front of the clerk; making a nice little pile of what mostly amounted to junk food.

The register beeped again and again as he scanned their things and Livia leaned over to examine a row of gum below the countertop until the clerk finished and asked, "Will this be all?"

She looked up to see him; a nice-looking man in his late twenties with long dark hair and a neat little beard. She stood up straight once more and he smiled at her. Livia felt her own smile make a brief appearance in response to it before quickly disappearing again.

Trevor's voice was gruff as he answered him, "A pack of Redwoods."

The clerk nodded, turned around and grabbed a pack from the display behind the register. He scanned it, producing another beep, and then set it on the counter. Looking at Trevor, his smile was gone now as he asked, "Anything else?"

Trevor gave a sour grunt and shook his head; clawing again at his arm as if he couldn't help himself. The clerk, who's name tag said 'Seth', told them their total and Trevor paid with cash. As they were gathering up the three plastic bags containing their purchases, he said, "Have a nice night."

Livia looked up to see Seth looking at her and smiling again. She nodded and replied, "Thanks. You too."

Then they were leaving, climbing back into the old car and hitting the road again. Minutes later Trevor was smoking yet another cigarette with one shaking hand as Livia bit into the second half of her chicken salad sandwich to help silence the growling monster of hunger in her guts. She was just cracking open a twenty ounce Sprunk and taking a long pull from it when Trevor asked, "So you gonna tell me what that was all about?"

Looking up at him, she swallowed before belching softly behind one hand. She cleared her throat and asked, "Huh? What do you mean?"

His dark eyes looked over at her for a moment before shifting to the road ahead once more. "Back there," he said, gesturing behind them with his cigarette. "You know, the guy at the gas station?"

Livia recapped the bottle of soda with one hand before looking over at him again, "Okay. What about him?"

Trevor slowed to a stop for a red light and those intense brown eyes of his met her gaze once more. "You're gonna sit there and tell me you don't know?" he asked, his growing anger evident in every movement as he took a long drag and blew it out. He let out a scary, laughing kind of growl that made her mouth suddenly go dry as he jabbed the glowing tip of his cigarette toward her, "You know _exactly_ what the fuck I'm talking about!"

Livia's expression only grew more perplexed and frightened, "No, I _don't_."

Trevor's mouth trembled a bit at the corners and his eyes narrowed on hers, "You were flirting with him."

She felt her own mouth drop open with surprise; so stunned that she could only look at him with wide eyes.

"So what's the deal, sunshine?" he asked, hitting his cigarette again and dropping ashes between his madly jittering legs. He was working himself up more and more as he licked his lower lip in an anxious way and continued, "You trying to make me jealous or is ol' Uncle T just not enough for you anymore?"

Livia blinked at him a few times, finally recognizing the pain lurking beneath the blazing fury in his eyes, and a shiver of dread ran up her back as she realized that he was actually being serious. It took her another moment before she could find her voice again, "What the _fuck_?!"

His lips drew back from his teeth as he spat, "Don't play stupid with me!" He growled again and hit his cigarette, his left eye twitching spastically as he continued, "You think I didn't see? You think I didn't know exactly what the fuck you were doing? Cocksucker was looking right down your shirt when you bent over, Livia. He had himself a good long look at your tits and you. _Fucking_. _Let_. _Him_." His eyes never left hers as his voice swelled into a shout, "You were practically shoving them in his face!"

Livia shook her head, blanching at the thought, "Bull _shit_! I - I didn't do anything like that! I wasn't flirting with him, Trevor! That's fucking nuts!"

One of his unruly eyebrows lifted high above the other as he tilted his head at her, jetting a thick cloud of smoke from his nostrils before flicking the butt out of the half open window, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" she shot back, scared yet growing angry at the same time. "Because I _wasn't_ flirting with that guy! I barely even looked at him! If he did like you said, if he looked down my shirt...I - I didn't know shit about it! I can't fucking control what other people do or don't do, Trevor!"

"You're lying to me," he said in a voice thick with suspicion. He smiled but it was more like a grimace as his eyes met hers again, "You know how I feel about that, Livia."

"I'm not lying to you!" she nearly screamed at him, her hands clenching into tight little fists. She might not be going through withdrawals like he was but she'd spent most of her day either handcuffed to a bed trying not to piss herself or dealing with him and his short fuse. This wrongful accusation was the last straw for her and she did scream this time as she said, "I'm telling you the truth, you - you _fucking psycho_!!!"

For a moment he didn't react, only sat there with his head lowered and his whole body shaking like a leaf. She watched his face cramp into that ugly look of rage again and she had just enough time to wish to take her words back when Trevor let out a growling yell, a strange kind of "Arrrghh!" noise that cracked at the end.

"You wanna see psycho?! Alright! Ooo-kay, darlin'! _I'll fucking show you psycho_!!!"

He stomped on the gas pedal and the car shot forward into oncoming traffic. They narrowly avoided being t-boned by a black Coquette, the sports car's front bumper missing them by less than a foot, and she heard a jarring symphony of horns blare all around them as other cars swerved and hit their brakes to avoid them. Trevor gave an enthusiastic "Whoo!" from behind the wheel as they blew through the red light and continued to floor it; his furious look slowly morphing into a mean-spirited smile as Livia screamed breathlessly beside him.

The Albany was old but apparently had some life in it yet; backfiring rapidly three times before finally gaining speed and charging forward like an angry bull. The speedometer needle slowly edged past fifty, sixty and then closed in on seventy. Now they were flying down the two-lane street ahead of them; vehicles flashing by so quickly that they were little more than blurs of color on either side of them. All it would take would be one wrong move from Trevor or one of the other motorists around them and they'd be reduced to human-flavored jelly. She cried out in mortal terror as Trevor swerved to avoid a collision with a blue SUV that had a bike rack on top and then the front bumper just kissed the back bumper of a little green sedan before straddling the white line in the middle once again.

"Trevor, please," she gasped, all trace of anger in her voice gone now as she gripped the passenger door so hard that her fingers had turned dead white. "Slow down! We're going to have an accident!"

" _We'Re GoInG tO hAvE aN aCcIdEnT_!!!" he mocked, giving that nasty, not-quite-sane laugh she knew so well before his voice rose into a growling roar. " _Oh NoOoOoO_!!! **_JESUS, TAKE THE WHEEL_**!!!"

Rather than slowing down, Trevor pressed on the pedal harder and the Albany began to shudder violently as the speedometer creeped closer and closer to eighty. Flying through another red light, they hit a bump and were airborne for a moment; stopping Livia's heart in her chest. When they came back down hard she felt her head snap forward and then back again; striking the head rest and making her yelp in pain and fear.

"Please!" she pleaded with him as her heart finally resumed thundering beneath her ribcage once more. "Please, stop! You're scaring me!"

" _PlEaSe, StOoOoOoP_!!!" Trevor cried, grinning fiercely even as his eyes narrowed with unbelievable focus on the road. " _YoU'rE sCaAaRiNg MeEeEe_!!!"

He cackled wildly again as they sideswiped a parked car; producing a long, agonized screech as metal rubbed against metal. Livia watched with her mouth open in an 'o' of shock as a shower of sparks flew from the passenger side only inches from her face.

She wailed in fear and covered the back of her head with her hands, unable to watch anymore. Trevor continued to laugh at her fright as he jerked the wheel to avoid another car and they shot past another intersection. She felt the wheels on the passenger side lift off of the ground and for a moment she was sure they'd flip; her heart beating so hard inside her chest that she thought it might burst as the sharp, metallic taste of terror coated her tongue. Then they were coming back down with a shriek of rubber against pavement as the wheels found traction once more and she began to cry; certain that he meant to kill them both.

Trevor was howling with laughter now, practically bouncing in his seat as she cried and squeezed her eyes shut; waiting for the inevitable impact that she knew was coming. He was going to crash because she'd had the audacity to talk back to him. She'd forgotten for a moment just who she was dealing with and now it would cost them both their lives.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?!" Trevor asked, his voice full of that strange amusement that carried a deep undercurrent of anger just beneath the surface. "Getting a little carsick?!"

Still covering her head with her hands, she sobbed and pleaded with him, "Please, Trevor, just stop! Don't do this!" When he only laughed again she began to panic, squeezing her eyes shut so tight that it hurt as she screamed, "I'm...I'm sorry, okay?!? I'm so fucking sorry!!! _Please, Trevor, stop the car before we both fucking die_!!!"

He slammed on the brakes as soon as the words were out of her mouth and the car came to a skidding halt; sending them fishtailing crazily. The Albany swapped ends three times but somehow, miraculously, they had managed not to hit anything. Shaking, she raised her head to look around and saw that they were on a different street now. It wasn't as busy as the one they'd turned off of but it wasn't deserted either. It was amazing that they were still alive.

"Okay," Trevor said, panting through his grin as the sour smell of his sweat pervaded the car's interior. "Apology accepted." He chuckled as she looked over at him and tipped a wink at her, "You know I can't stay mad at you, darlin'."


	23. Chapter 23

It was past two in the morning when Livia sat in the passenger seat chewing nervously at her lower lip. The sallow-faced prostitute on the corner had directed them to this dark alley in East Vinewood and Livia could already tell that this was somewhere they didn't need to be. 

Unfortunately Trevor was too concerned with the monkey on his back to worry about anything else so he pulled up to the back of the building with zero trepidation. As he took the keys out of the ignition and moved to open the door, Livia reached over and grabbed his tattooed forearm with one hand; stopping him.

"I don't like this," she said, a cold sweat breaking out on her brow as her eyes darted to and from every dark corner around them. "This doesn't feel right. We...we should go."

Trevor frowned at this and sighed, "You worry too much, Livia. We're _fine_." He lifted his shirt to show her the automatic pistol stuffed into the waistband of his jeans as if she'd somehow forgotten about it. "If anything happens Mr. Nine Millimeter here will set shit right in a hurry."

Livia resumed anxiously chewing her lip and her blue eyes were huge as she looked into his; saying nothing. She knew she'd never be able to convince him that this was a bad idea. His need was so strong that it overshadowed any sense of danger or rational thought that might enter his head. Neither one of them would be leaving until Trevor got what he wanted.

"It's gonna be okay," he told her, reaching over to grip the back of her neck and bring her in for a brief peck on the mouth. "I promise you nothing's gonna happen."

As he drew back his lips twitched into a tiny half-smile but Livia was hardly comforted by this. Her stomach was twisting in knots, all but screaming at her to run, and she'd never been one to ignore her gut. Still not knowing what to say to convince him, she shook her head slowly and tightened her grip on his arm; silently refusing to let him brush her intuition away so carelessly.

He gave a frustrated grunt and reached over to gently pry her fingers off of his arm, "For the love of...would you relax? It's just a drug deal, darlin'. We aren't robbing a fucking bank here. There's no reason to be so jumpy."

Livia hung her head a moment as he got out of the car and then reluctantly followed suit, coming around the side of the car to stand next to him. He took her hand in his with an appreciative nod and then led the way to the yellow door they'd been told to look for.

Trevor knocked three times with his free hand and waited, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. He raised his hand to knock again when the door opened a crack and a voice asked, "Who the fuck are you?"

Trevor's hand hesitated a moment before he put it back down at his side and replied, "My name's Trevor. What's yours?"

"The fuck you want, asshole?"

Trevor growled in irritation and said, "That's not very nice. You talk to all your potential buyers that way? That's not a very good way to start a rapport with someone. What if they decide to take their business elsewhere?"

"You have three seconds to tell me what you want before I seriously fuck you up."

Trevor's tone changed from one of strained civility to outright hostility as he said, "Look at me! What in the ever loving fuck do you think I want?" When the man at the door said nothing, Trevor growled and spoke through clenched teeth, "What? I gotta spell it out for you?" Livia knew he was getting close to doing something stupidly impulsive again; something that might get them both shot before he even finished speaking. He let out another growl of disgust and nearly shouted his next words, "Jesus titty-fucking Christ, I wanna get lit, asshole!"

The door opened a little wider and a shadowy face peered out at them near the top of the door; revealing nothing more than the suggestion of a nose and one icy blue eye. "This ain't no fucking charity," the very tall shadow man said. "Show me some green or get your smelly ass outta here."

Trevor reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of crumpled hundred dollar bills. "There you go," he said, smoothing them out so they could be seen more clearly. "Happy?"

The shadow man grunted, opening the door a little wider and stepping aside to reveal a back hallway that led further into the building. "Alright," he said, beckoning them forward with one huge hand. "Come in. Door at the end of the hall."

Trevor took her hand and pulled her inside, grumbling irritably to himself. As they stepped into the dimly lit hallway, she saw that there were several doors, all closed, on both sides and one big metal one at the opposite end with an engraved wooden plaque over it that read 'Abandon all hope' in Old English script; obviously the door they were meant to go through next. The shadow man turned out to be a perfectly normal (albeit very large and a bit stupid) looking man who immediately returned to his metal folding chair and his car magazine as soon as the door was closed and locked once more. She had the distinct displeasure to witness him dig one thick finger into his nose and quickly looked away again; feeling mildly nauseous.

 _Mongo watch door_ , she thought distractedly. _Good Mongo._

As Trevor pulled her closer to the door at the end of the hall she could feel the thump of a heavy bass line in the floorboards beneath her feet and soon she could hear a man's guttural screaming over the fast-driving rhythm of several squealing guitars. She couldn't make out the words, they were too distorted, but the furiousness and volume of it made her flesh break out into sudden goosebumps. 

Livia squeezed his hand tight in hers and whispered loudly, "This is a bad idea. A really, really bad idea."

Trevor grunted and reached out with his free hand to turn the knob. "Relax," he muttered back at her. "I got this."

Then he was leading her into the next room and as her eyes took in the dimly lit bar in front of them (dark wood, flickering beer signs, a dart board on one wall, a pool table, a big fancy sound system set up on a stage where the music came screaming out from), a moving figure quickly captured her attention. A skinny, tall man with a shaved head and a big swastika tattoo on his throat was approaching them, setting her on edge more than ever as she remembered Lamar's talk about 'shady-ass skinheads' a few days earlier.

The tall guy sneered at Trevor, revealing a set of slightly yellowed teeth, and had to shout to be heard over the music, "Who the fuck let you in here?!"

Livia's eyes darted around the room, seeing no less than a dozen other men around them; playing pool or darts, drinking at the u-shaped bar or watching a flat screen TV where some old Film Noir movie played on mute. All of them were eerily similar to the man who'd spoken to them; shaven heads and tattooed hate on their alabaster skin. Worst of all, she could see their eyes turn to look at the newcomers and, as they settled on her, she could almost feel their instant dislike and distrust. These white supremacist assholes outnumbered them six to one and she began to shake uncontrollably as the need to flee became so strong that the only thing keeping her in place was Trevor's tight grip on her hand.

For his part Trevor seemed mostly unconcerned as he shouted his answer back, "I was told I could buy here!"

The tall guy with the swastika tattooed on his throat lifted a hand at the bartender and nodded slowly. The bartender reached below the bar to grab a little black remote and press a button and cut off the speed metal mid-scream, leaving the air heavy with sudden silence.

"There," the tall guy said, his sneer morphing into a smile that made Livia's skin crawl. "That's better. You said you're here to buy? What are you looking for?"

Trevor smiled back but Livia could see that it was his biting smile again. As his hand tightened on hers she realized that he knew the danger here, he simply didn't care. "Glass," he replied. "As much as you're willing to sell."

The tall man whistled through his teeth and cocked one thick black eyebrow, "You don't waste time, do you?" He rubbed at his barely-there goatee and nodded, "Okay. Long as you've got the money I think we can help you out."

Livia felt Trevor's hand loosen on hers as he said, "Fantastic. I was starting to think there was no hope left for this miserable fucking city."

The tall guy's smile widened and the swastika on his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed and replied, "Never fear, brother. You've come to the right place."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia sat at the corner of the bar sipping on a beer that did absolutely nothing to settle her stomach. Trevor had gone into the manager's office with the tall guy to do the deal and he'd told her to hang out here until their business was concluded. She'd acquiesced without comment but she could still feel the men's eyes on her and it made her more nervous than ever. She tried to ignore the weight of their collective gaze, to make herself as small and forgettable as possible, but had no success. She only saw three other women here and they were all occupied by other men, giggling and drinking and barely paying any attention to Livia while the men without a female companion continued to stare.

She'd only been sitting there maybe five minutes before one of them came forward, a man with grey streaking his black beard and watery blue eyes. He sat next to her and gave a mostly friendly smile. "Hey there," he said, setting his own beer down on the bar next to her, sloshing some out onto its scarred surface. "How you doin' tonight, little lady?"

She turned her head to look at him but only for a moment, the lie coming out of her mouth by pure habit, "Fine. Yourself?"

The man smiled, showing a set of teeth that had several gaps in them, "Can't complain, I 'spose." He took a long drink of his beer and wiped the foam from his lips with one tattooed hand. "What's your name, honey?"

She told him without looking over again, "Livia."

He stuck out his hand and said, "They call me Rooster. Nicetameetcha."

She shook his offered hand, giving him an obligatory smile, and then tried her best to forget that he was even there. Soon Trevor would come back and then they could leave this awful place. She rolled the green glass bottle of beer between her hands, frowning as she looked again at the door of the manager's office, and after a moment she felt something gently touch her knee. She looked down to see that it was this Rooster guy's hand settling over the curve of her knee. Stiffening, she turned her head to look at him again and saw that he was still smiling at her; showing more teeth than before.

"So, uh...how much do you charge?"

Livia reached down and gently removed his hand, tossing it back toward him as if it were something that might be infectious. "Excuse me?"

Rooster's smile only widened, "Aw, come on, don't play coy, baby. How much?"

"For _what_?"

Rooster scoffed and took another drink of his beer, his watery eyes returning to hers as he wiped foam from his lip again, "A pretty thing like yourself doesn't pal around with a tweaker like that unless he's paying by the hour. So...how much we talkin' about? 'Cause I got an eightball and three hundred dollars burning a hole in my pocket. You wanna party or what?"

Livia's cheeks flushed with color and her mouth opened and closed several times in shock before she could speak again, "You think I'm..."

Rooster's hand settled on her shoulder in a disturbingly familiar way as he asked, "Do you do group discounts? I'm sure I'm not the only one who's interested."

She looked around and saw that indeed several of the other men were paying attention to this little spectacle at the bar. One or two of them were downright leering at her and her stomach began churning helplessly; making her feel as though she might vomit as the weight of all those eyes seemed to pile onto her at once. She stood suddenly from her seat, so upset that she was shaking, and could only shake her head in answer to his question; so repulsed by this line of inquiry that she was about to start running. When she felt his hand catch her elbow and stop her before she could go more than a couple of steps, she nearly screamed aloud.

"Hey!" Rooster grunted, pulling her back. "Where are you going? I'm not done talking to you, honey."

Livia spun around on her heel and shoved against his bony chest with surprising strength; making his mouth drop open in shock. "Don't you fucking touch me!" she shouted at him, her anger at this unwanted contact burning through her fear and making her forget the danger here. "I'm not a fucking prostitute, you wannabe Nazi piece of shit!"

Rooster's shocked look was quickly replaced by a look of fury and she felt his hand tighten on her arm rather than loosen. He opened his mouth to speak but Trevor's voice suddenly rang out loud and clear, "What's going on?"

Rooster's hand released her arm just as quickly as he'd snatched it up and then he was facing Trevor as he pointed an accusing finger at her, "This bitch needs to mind her fucking manners, that's what! All I did was ask her a couple of questions and she flipped the hell out on me!"

Livia felt her hands roll into fists and she tried to tell Trevor what had happened, tried to get her mouth to cooperate, "He - he..." Bright spots of color blazed on both of her cheeks and she let out a frustrated groan; her anger so large that it completely robbed her of any way to articulate further.

Trevor hardly even looked at her, though. He only had eyes for Rooster as he asked, "What did you say to her?"

Rooster's eyes darted from Trevor to Livia and then back again as his anger slowly melted into a look of confusion, "W-what?"

"You heard me," Trevor said, his voice neutral and his face an expressionless mask that betrayed nothing.

Rooster took a step back, his bravado wilting in front of those cold eyes. "Maybe I just had too much to drink," he said, raising his hands in an effort to show that he meant no harm. "Look...I'm gonna be honest with you. I thought she was a whore. I just wanted to know if she'd -"

"What? Fuck you?" Trevor interrupted, giving his strange laugh as one side of his mouth curved upward into a smile. He nodded his head in her direction and said, "Hell, why didn't you say so? Maybe we can work something out."

Livia felt a wave of cold wash over her as she looked over at Trevor, almost too stunned to speak, "Wait...what the _hell_?!"

He lifted one hand toward her, still not looking at her, and said, "Shhh, darlin'. The men are talking."

Tears formed in her eyes and she covered her mouth with one hand to smother a sob. Surely he wasn't...he _couldn't_...but as she studied his cold expression she realized that he wasn't joking around. He was seriously considering renting her out to these neo-Nazi fuckwits just to make a few more bucks and it took everything in her not to launch herself at him. The only thing that stopped her was knowing that Trevor could swat her down in an instant if she tried and it wouldn't even take any real effort on his part. If he really wanted to do this she didn't have much choice in the matter.

"How much you think she's worth?" Trevor asked, speaking to the skinny man again. "A lady like this might be worth a little more than you want to pay."

Rooster seemed more confused than ever at this sudden turn of events but she thought he also sounded hopeful as he said, "Well, I - I'm not sure. I..."

Trevor stepped closer, his smile wider now, and his voice was surprisingly pleasant; like they were discussing the weather or how much a good cup of coffee should cost. "How much?" he asked again, passing Livia and coming close enough to reach out and touch the worried man if he wanted to. "Come on, we're just two guys talking, right? So how much do you think a nice piece of ass Iike her is worth?"

The tall guy, the one with the swastika on his throat, had come into the room with Trevor and now he finally decided to try and intervene somehow. "Listen, let's just forget about it, huh?" he tried, his voice caught somewhere between authoritative and frightened. "Come on, man, you need to leave before this shit gets out of hand."

Trevor ignored him, so close to Rooster that he had the man backed up against the bar now, and the noises of the other bar patrons suddenly quieted as every pair of eyes turned to look. "How much?" He repeated, his smile growing wider and wider, showing every tooth in his head as his eyes trapped Rooster's in their dark depths. "How much are you willing to give up?" He leaned closer, so close that no one but Rooster and Livia could hear him as he whispered, "What if I say all I really want out of you is a smile?"

Then Rooster's eyes widened suddenly, nearly bulging out of his sockets, and Livia heard him make a strange noise; a kind of cough and wheeze that didn't make sense at first. She saw a thin rill of blood roll out of the corner of his mouth and watched it trailing slowly down until it hit his scruffy salt-and-pepper beard. Her eyes continued to follow the trail of blood on its way down until she saw the blade sticking out of his throat, just below his Adam's apple, and she heard a scream from one of the women somewhere on the other side of the bar. The shrill sound of horror sent a shiver up her back even as her stunned mind still struggled to grasp what was happening while Trevor dragged the knife through Rooster's throat and opened it up in a huge crescent; a gaping wound of red that looked very much like smile before blood came gushing out and doused them both.

The tall man was moving forward, trying to draw a gun out of the back of his pants as Trevor withdrew his pocket knife from the throat of his friend, and Livia didn't think about what she was doing at all. She was on autopilot as she reached over to grab the neck of the beer bottle she'd been sipping from only minutes before and the tall man never saw it coming when she smashed it against the back of his head. She still looked as if she didn't really know what was going on even as it shattered into a thousand pieces in her hand; knocking him out before he could get his gun around and point it at Trevor.

She heard running feet as the tall guy went down and then Trevor was throwing down his knife and grabbing her just before lifting her and throwing her over the bar. She squawked in surprise as she sailed up and over like a defective rocket only to hit the bartender; sending them both to the floor behind the bar with a crash. She heard Trevor's scream of rage as she struggled to untangle herself from the arms and legs of the terrified bartender and then gunfire was going off all around them.

She heard bullets hitting the wooden bar surrounding her and they punched through as if the boards were no more substantial than cardboard; hitting bottles and boxes and even the bartender several times before she lay facedown on the floor and laced her hands together over the back of her head. Trevor was screaming as he returned fire and then, incredibly, he was laughing again, "Step right up, motherfuckers! You wanna play?!? _Let's fucking plaaaayyyy_!!!"

Livia heard several of the white supremacists crying out in pain as Trevor continued laughing and shooting back at them. It didn't go on for long, maybe no more than a minute at most, but the gunfire was almost constant and she cowered on the floor with her face pressed into a padded mat that smelled of old beer. She heard several men screaming curses or crying out in pain only to be silenced seconds later all while Trevor cackled and whooped and growled; reveling in the death and destruction he wrought with a single 9mm pistol. The crazy bastard was having the time of his life while she lay there in a slowly spreading warm puddle; certain that she'd ended up pissing herself after all.

Then things began to quiet down, the shots and groans and ricochets finally tapering off, and she heard Trevor call out, "Is that it?! What?!? Nobody else wants to play with me?!" She heard a man groan in response and Trevor shouted, "Ah, shut the fuck up!" Then he fired one last time, silencing the groaning man midway through his final breath.

She heard the _crunch-crunch, crack!_ sound of glass being crushed under his work boots as he stepped forward and then he was leaning over the bar to peer down at her and say, "Come on, darlin'. Time to go."

Livia lifted her head from the floor and immediately saw the bartender lying next to her, glassy eyed and barely breathing. He had a hole in his neck and it wasn't piss she was lying in after all but a huge pool of his blood. She met his wild, staring eyes with her own for just a moment as he desperately clutched at his wound with one crimson hand and tried to stop the flow. Then she let out a cry of disgust and scrambled to her feet; slipping a little and almost falling again before Trevor reached over and grabbed her arm to steady her.

She let out a breathless cry, trying to pull away, and then her eyes met his own. "Come on," he told her, gesturing toward the exit with the barrel of his gun. "It's over, darlin'. Let's get the fuck out of here."

Then he was helping her climb back over the bar and when she saw the bodies lying everywhere she let out a shocked gasp; clutching Trevor's arm even tighter than before. He tried to soothe her a little as he tried to lead her away, muttering nonsense that she barely heard as her eyes took in the carnage around them. All of the men who had been drinking or playing pool or watching TV were either dead or dying; shot full of holes and lying in their own spreading pools of blood. Trevor was the only person other than herself that was still standing and it seemed impossible. She nearly pinched herself just to make sure it was real.

At one point she looked back over at Trevor with eyes the size of tea saucers and asked, "How in the fuck are you still breathing?!"

He ignored this and looked her up and down, frowning at the blood that had soaked through her clothes. "Are you okay?" he asked, turning her a little from side to side as his eyes searched for holes. "Did you get hit?"

She wasn't entirely certain one way or the other but she didn't feel any pain so she shook her head at this and then he was trying again to pull her toward the door leading out. This time she let him and his hand was crushing her arm but she barely felt it as he rushed her along; moving so fast that she very nearly stumbled over the body of the doorman. As she stepped over him she looked down and saw that he now had a couple of holes in his head that hadn't been there only twenty minutes ago; his face caught in a puzzled expression as his dull eyes stared up at the ceiling.

She slipped a little in the red and gray spill of his brains and suddenly she began to cry; big whooping gasps that filled her lungs with the overpowering smell of blood and shit and burnt gunpowder. For a moment it was so strong that she had to fight grimly with her stomach, trying not to puke all over herself, and her last coherent thought before shock took over completely was, _Poor Mongo. Looks like he had a lot more brains than I thought_.

She didn't even make it to the end of the hall before she was unloading her gently used chicken salad sandwich all over the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. With everything going on I've had a lot on my mind (like everyone does, I'm sure) so it's been hard to zone out and get into the writing groove.


	24. Chapter 24

"H-his brains were all over the floor."

Trevor didn't look away from the road, only continued to squint through the smoke from the Redwood parked in one corner of his mouth and grunted, "Yeah."

Livia looked down at the blood covering her. She could feel it slowly tightening on her exposed flesh as it dried and she could still remember the look in the bartender's eyes as he bled out. He hadn't spoken a word to her but she'd been able to see the knowledge of his impending death in his gaze. And Mongo...poor, stupid, booger-picking Mongo. Had he known? Had any of them?

"You killed them," she said, her voice hollow and detached; as if she were barely there at all. "They're all dead."

"Yeah," Trevor repeated, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and extending the tip out of the cracked window, letting the air suck away the ashes. "Shit, I hope so."

"Why?"

He gave a snort and turned the wheezing Albany into the hotel parking lot, "Why the fuck not?"

She fell silent again, not wanting to challenge him, but her hands began to worry at each other in her lap. He'd killed so many...so many and yet he regarded it as no more consequential than stepping on a few spiders. He was so sure; so certain. He didn't question for one moment whether he'd done the right thing or not and, hell, maybe he even had a point in the end but...she couldn't stop seeing that bartender's eyes. Or Mongo's face as it had been frozen in that confused expression with his brains lay spread out on the floor around him like grisly confetti. It was almost impossible for her to dehumanize those men enough in her mind to make it seem okay. It went against her very nature to be so callous and uncaring toward another human being...no matter how awful they had been.

 _Maybe he's right about me being too soft_ , she thought, her hands twisting and clutching at each other so roughly that it made her knuckles hurt. _God help me, sometimes it's like I can hardly find that line between right and wrong anymore. It always seemed so clear before...before all this_.

She continued to wrestle with this confusing mess in her mind until Trevor was guiding the wheezing Albany into a parking spot just below the stairs leading up to their room and shutting off the engine. He didn't make a move to get out, however, only sat there smoking and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. She watched him carefully from the corner of her eye, mentally willing him to break the silence between them. Though he did not speak yet, she could feel the agitation radiating out of his pores; that dreadful quiet growing heavier and heavier with each passing moment.

After a few minutes of listening to the slow ticking of the engine as it cooled and the much faster rhythm of his tapping fingers, he suddenly stopped and turned to face her. "Don't tell me you feel bad for those 'Sieg Heil' motherfuckers," he huffed, his tone equal parts annoyance and disbelief.

Livia's eyes met his, wide and full of painful indecision, "N-no...I don't know. Not really. It's just..."

Trevor looked at her for a long moment, his face pinched in thought, before he gave a weary sigh and pitched his cigarette out of the window. He reached over to take her hand in his; their flesh sticking together as the tacky, half-dried blood came into contact.

"Look, I think I understand," he said, his tone a bit softer as he rubbed his calloused thumb over her knuckles. "It was your first time seeing someone die right up close like that. It's hard, I get it. It was...weird my first time too but you get used to it."

Livia pulled her hand away from his and shook her head, fighting the numbness that wanted to sink in and dull these feelings again. "I don't want to get used to it," she told him, tears spilling onto her cheeks as she looked down at the blood covering her once more. "It's...it's _wrong_ , Trevor."

 _Is it, though?_ her mind chattered at her uneasily. _Perhaps the lady doth protest too much?_

She heard Trevor's rumbling growl of irritation and his voice came out harsh and angry; all trace of gentleness gone now. "You want to know why I did it? I did it because _someone had to_." He claimed her hand with his own once more and it tightened down on hers as if to keep her from pulling away again as he went on, "You want to know what kind of people they are, Livia? They're hate-mongering asswipes who wouldn't have hesitated to do the exact same thing to us. They're the kind of people that burn down churches in black neighborhoods. Or shoot up synagogues. Or run over some poor kid on a bike and laugh about it later."

He ran his free hand through his thinning hair and gave a frustrated groan before elaborating even further; his hand still gripping hers hard enough to make her finger bones ache. "I mean, I'm no saint," he admitted. "I can be a sick fucking bastard when the mood suits me...you know that. But I tend to only kill the dumb fucks that get in my way or piss me off and, well, even then it's only the ones who are too stupid to run."

He gave his strange laugh and Livia only waited, knowing there was more.

"Shit, you could consider it natural selection in a way, you know?" Suddenly he shifted again, like a real-life Jekyll and Hyde, and spoke through clenched teeth, "I may be a cold-blooded, cut-throat opportunistic motherfucker but I don't go around killing people just because they're different than me and _I don't hurt kids_. Those assholes do and it's because they're evil, Livia. Ignorant, sure, but evil all the same." He shook his head and gave another frustrated grunt, "I'm not always in the wrong when I hurt someone and...well...it's best to cull that particular herd as often as possible, I say."

His other hand reached over and took her face in his sticky palm, turning her gently until their eyes met and she couldn't look away. "But that's not the only reason I had for doing what I did, darlin'," he told her, his voice low and yet never losing that hard edge; his eyes drawing her in again and holding her there. "I also did it because they thought they could have you. They thought a little money could buy you."

Livia's bottom lip trembled and she felt a lump beginning to form in her throat as she whispered, "I thought you were going to actually do it. I was so scared and...mad at you. I...I thought you were going to let them-"

" _Never_ ," Trevor cut in with a sudden snarl, his hand tightening on her face until she could feel her teeth digging uncomfortably into the soft lining of her cheeks. "That will _never happen_ , you hear me?"

She nodded and swallowed thickly; her heart suddenly beating faster than before.

Trevor seemed to realize that he was gripping her a bit more roughly than he had intended and his hand softened again. "When I saw that piece of shit put his hand on you..." He shook his head slowly but with great conviction; his dark eyes never leaving hers. "He had to pay. They _all_ had to pay." He released her and pushed a stray lock of her hair behind one ear as if to see her better, "You're my girl, Livia, and I love you." He smiled at her then and his voice became a soothing purr; sounding almost nothing like the laughing man who'd slaughtered a room full of people less than an hour ago. "Do you have any idea what that means?"

This time she shook her head, her eyes wide and unblinking on his.

"It means that you're _mine_ , darlin'," he told her, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching; that smile growing as he spoke. "And no one fucking touches what belongs to me."

Suddenly it was hard to look into his eyes but she couldn't bring herself to look away. She knew he was waiting for her to speak, to do something. She felt her stomach give a warning twist and, acting purely on impulse, she threw her arms around him; surprising both of them. She hugged him to her tightly and lay her head on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen but it was only for the briefest moment; his arms coming up to wrap around her and hug her back, nearly crushing her. Then, surprising them both yet again, she burst into tears.

At first it was just a sniffle and a choked sob or two but soon she was crying hard enough for it to hurt with every ragged intake of air. She didn't know where these tears were coming from but she couldn't stop them and couldn't hold them back no matter how she tried. They ripped out from some hidden place inside of her that she was too afraid to explore on her own. In these dark waters there dwelled ungodly beasts that could swallow her whole.

Trevor's arms softened a bit around her as her sobbing intensified and then he buried his face into her hair to whisper, "It's okay. You can cry if you need to, darlin'. Everything's going to be all right. I'm never gonna let anyone touch you, I promise. I'd fucking die first."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Walking up the stairs to their room she heard a door open and then Wade's voice, "Hey, you're back! I was getting worried about you two. You been gone so long I thought you mighta left me here." He stopped and Livia looked up to see his eyes go wide at the sight of blood covering them both. "W-what happened to you guys? You're all... _messy_." His face went slack for a moment as if he had completely lost his train of thought, and then sudden understanding brightened his normally dull expression. "Oh, wait!" he said, pointing a finger at them and grinning. "I know! You had another syrup accident, right?"

"Uh...yeah," Trevor said, nodding his head and stepping up onto the landing to face the younger man. "You guessed it, buddy." He reached into the bulging pocket on the side of his bloodstained camo pants and pulled out a gallon Ziploc baggie half filled with cloudy white crystals. Tossing it at him, he told him, "Here. Take this and get a couple of bowls loaded up for us. I'll be back after we get cleaned up."

Wade's eyes went wide again and he barely managed to catch the baggie, struggling with it for a moment as he said, "Holy crow, Trevor! Where'd you get all this?"

"Never you mind where," he said, sounding mildly annoyed as his dopey protege stuffed the bag into the front pocket of his own baggy pants. "Just get 'em loaded up, alright? I'll be back before you know it and then we'll set sail on the good ship lollypop."

Wade's smile was bright as he nodded, seemingly overjoyed by the prospect of getting high again, and ducked back into his room; shutting the door loud enough to make Livia jump in surprise. Trevor shook his head in mild exasperation and took her hand once again. He led her into their own room, shutting the door behind them much more softly and locking the door afterwards.

Livia didn't waste a moment. She went directly to the bathroom and began peeling off her sticky clothes; wanting to get the disturbing feel of the bartender's blood off of her as soon as possible. It felt like it had soaked into her very pores and she'd never felt so disgusting, so _unclean_ , in her entire life. Trevor followed and was quick to shed his own clothes, throwing them on top of hers in a pile in the middle of the floor. Only minutes later they were both in a nearly scalding hot shower and scrubbing away all evidence of the massacre from their bodies.

After washing away the blood Livia could feel the weight of the night pressing down on her; draining the very last of her energy reserves. She watched the water at their feet turn from dark red to fading shades of pink with eyes that felt puffy and raw. She was so tired that she nearly swayed on her feet; suddenly finding it very difficult to keep her eyes open. So she leaned against the wall, sighing as the warmth of the shower relaxed her formerly tense muscles even further and made her feel as though she might actually fall asleep standing up.

The feel of Trevor's hands on her woke her from a semi-doze five minutes later and she lifted her head to see him pressing against her with that half-lidded look of desire on his face. "I'm so tired," she told him, wincing a little at the hard nudge of his erection against her hip. "Can I just go to sleep? Please, Trevor?"

His hands slid down from her shoulders to gently cup her breasts, squeezing them as he gave a low growl of anticipation. "I love you so much," he told her, his voice thick with desire as his eyes looked down into hers. "I want to make you feel good, darlin'."

Before she could even begin to think of a response to that, he reached down to grab her waist and turned her so that he could press her back fully against the tile wall. He reached around to grip her buttocks with both hands and suddenly he was lifting her up until her feet were no longer touching the ground. He slipped himself in between her spread thighs and she could feel that rock hard part of him jab into her; mostly unsurprised by now to find that there was a stirring of her own desire inside of her almost immediately. It seemed like sometimes all he had to do was touch her and she could feel herself growing ready for him; almost like he had some hold over her body that no one had ever had before. Not even her husband (now ex, she supposed) had ever been able to do that to her. As his hands kneaded her flesh in a greedy, possessive manner she had time to wonder if it was some kind of weird black magic. It would make about as much sense to her as any other explanation.

Then he leaned down to kiss her and she sighed in surrender; parting her lips and allowing his tongue to slip inside. Despite being tired and feeling sore all over, she felt herself begin to warm to him even more than before; kissing him back as he gave a thick groan and shuddered against her. Trevor had her pinned against the wall, his cock digging into her pelvic bone as she brought her hands up to brace herself against his broad shoulders. She felt him break their kiss suddenly and he was panting now as he reached down to grip himself in one hand. He gave an odd, needy-sounding groan before thrusting into her in one brutal motion; too excited to wait any longer.

Even though she had felt the beginnings of arousal in her loins, she hadn't been completely ready and there was a bit of pain as he drove all the way in. She must've gasped or made some noise to let her discomfort be known because he was suddenly drawing his head back to look at her, his eyes still hazy even as his eyebrows knotted together in concern.

"You okay?" he asked, his tone heavier with lust than it had been before. She knew it was taking a lot of effort to restrain himself but he was as still as a stone as he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

He had but it was already becoming less uncomfortable now as she shook her head and said, "I'm fine, Trevor. Just..."

But she didn't have to tell him. He was already moving again but much slower this time; drawing himself out and making her moan quietly and press her face against his throat as he pushed forward at that same snail's pace. He went on like this for a long while, shaking harder and harder as he fought the urge to go faster. Livia hugged him against her body, tilting her hips at just the right angle until she was shaking too, and felt herself pulling him forward with each thrust; hungry for more.

"Oh Trevor," she moaned breathlessly into the damp curls of hair on his tattooed chest. "Just like that. Please, ohhhh God, please. It feels so fucking _good_..."

He was still panting, his hands digging into the soft flesh of her hips hard enough to leave bruises in the shapes of his fingers, and he struggled for a long time to keep going at the same pace and angle; making her moan and roll her head back and forth on his chest as physical pleasure swept away all coherent thought. There was nothing beyond the exquisite sensation of their joining and soon she lost herself completely, almost whimpering as Trevor continued. The shower was still drumming relentlessly around them, the air steamy and drawing a clean sweat from their skin. She wasn't even nearing her peak yet, simply enjoying his slow and steady rhythm even as her mind began to stutter and do that weird glitching-out thing again. This time, however, it was just a little different.

Strange images flitted through her mind so quickly that she couldn't make sense of them even if she'd tried; the gaping wound in Rooster's throat as blood came rushing out, dark clouds racing across the pale face of the moon, bright summer sunshine filtering through the rows of the cornfield from long ago where she had run and laughed until she thought her heart might leap out of her chest from joy, her mother's version of a biting smile, Trevor's hand holding hers and dragging his thumb across her bloody knuckles, the look on Paul's face when she'd told him that she never wanted to see him again, that bright glimmer in Trevor's eyes the few times that she'd seen him when he was happy. They were disjointed, jumbled snapshots of things that had been; of pain and pleasure, blood and ecstacy, the dark and the light. The more she tried to block it out the stronger they became, making her shake her head back and forth as if in response to a question that hadn't been asked.

It was a little scary, these intrusive thoughts, but even later when her mind came back to her she didn't know why. With all the shit that could go wrong in the future, the past was the last thing that she should be afraid of so she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to somehow will them away; to focus on nothing but the here and now.

Trevor tried to keep going slow a little longer, staying true to his word about wanting to please her, but eventually his instinct took over and he couldn't hold back anymore. He gave an animalistic cry and sped up the rhythm of his pistoning hips until he was driving his cock in and out of her hard enough to draw a breathless grunt from both of them each time he thrust forward again. When his lips met hers she kissed him back eagerly and her hands slid up until they were caught in his wet hair; preventing him from pulling away again. Trevor growled into her mouth and pinned her even harder against the wall; the tile cold and unforgiving on her flesh as he drove into her again and again.

Within moments she could feel the first unfurling petals of climax in her core, stretching out until she could feel it in the roots of her hair and tingling in the tips of her fingers and toes. She tore her lips away from his to cry out and gasp desperately for air, clinging to him as her toes curled and her hands pulled helplessly at his hair. Trevor felt her inner muscles clench around him and then he was shooting over the edge as well, crying out hoarsely as his pleasure melted into hers and left them both gasping for air. There was that familiar spread of warmth in her belly as he kissed her mouth once more and then trailed his lips up over her nose. He kissed all the way up until he reached her forehead; the rest of him stiffening into a death-like rigidity as he shuddered and the last of his own orgasm ran its course. He held her there against the wall until he couldn't anymore and slowly let her down again; kissing her and murmuring something softly all the while.

As her feet touched the floor again, her knees feeling almost too weak and wobbly to support her weight, she realized that she could understand what he was saying. He was still pressing his lips against her forehead and saying the same three words again and again. Sweet words...scary words.

Trevor repeated "I love you" over and over like a prayer.


	25. Chapter 25

Livia woke around noon to find Trevor sitting at the foot of the bed watching TV. She sat up and rubbed her eyes with both hands to clear the sleep away while a commercial for a local professional carpet cleaning business dragged on and on. She gave a long stretch and was about to throw the covers off of her legs when she heard the familiar sound of Weazel News' music.

Rather than moving to stand, she peered around Trevor's shoulder to see the TV better but it was more out of curiosity than anything else, really. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd actually sat down and watched any local news. She was the kind of person who usually felt more comfortable with sticking to things like NPR or the few podcasts she'd liked.

When the music finally ended she saw a handsome blonde man with perfect white teeth sitting behind a big news desk with the Weazel News logo plastered across the front. Next to him sat an equally attractive blonde woman with equally straight white teeth wearing enough makeup to cover half the starlets in the city. The blonde man's smile was brilliant as he said, "Welcome back to Weazel News. Greg Harris here coming to you live alongside my lovely co-anchor, Summer Dean. We hope you're all having a good afternoon." He turned to look at the blonde lady, his smile brighter than ever as he asked, "It's been a picture perfect day, wouldn't you say, Summer?"

 _Barbie and Ken do the news_ , Livia thought, rolling her eyes. _How very fucking Vinewood of them_.

The blonde woman nodded and chirped back, "Absolutely. Lots of sunshine and happy faces out there today, Greg."

The blonde man gave her an indulgent nod and then turned back to face the camera, his smile disappearing suddenly; obviously a well practiced move. "But no one was smiling in the early morning hours of this glorious Monday," he intoned, flipping over to a somber voice that bespoke of utmost seriousness. Hell, he was almost as good at shifting from one mood to the next as Trevor was. "The streets of Los Santos are well known to be dangerous at night and crimes like theft, assault, arson and murder are all on the rise, according to recent statistics. Every so often though, we hear about something that makes us here at Weazel News take real notice. Especially when a crime scene includes members of a well-known all-white hate group called 'The Remnants'. We take you now live to our field reporter Julia Villarreal with more on this story. Julia?"

"Thank you, Greg," said an unsmiling woman with long, gorgeous hair dyed the color of honey and meticulously painted red lips. "I'm standing here in East Vinewood where, at approximately two thirty this morning, 911 received a call concerning multiple gunshots coming from inside a private club. Long rumored to be a hangout for a faction of the white supremacist group called 'The Remnants', LSPD officers were no strangers to the problems surrounding this small corner of the city."

They cut to an image of a bar sandwiched between a nail salon and a laundromat; a shot that was obviously taken from across the street. There was a sign that read 'Ivory Nights' in bold script over the heavy wooden doors and the windows were all blacked out to keep anyone overly curious from looking in. Then the image switched to a close up shot of the bar; the lens focusing on a tiny hand-printed sign tucked inside one corner of the window on the right side of the door that read 'Members Only'. 

Suddenly Ms. Villarreal was back, her face set in a grim expression and her brown eyes seemingly staring directly into Livia's as she continued, "Expecting another dispute between members, police arrived on scene only to be floored by what they found within. Described as a 'bloodbath' and 'one of the worst things I have ever seen' by one first responder, at least nine people were pronounced dead and as many as three others were taken to Central Los Santos Medical Center with life-threatening injuries."

They switched to pre-recorded footage of men in white coats with 'Coroner' printed on the back in bold black letters and protective gear over their hands and faces loading up several stretchers carrying black body bags into the back of an ambulance. They cut away again, this time showing an image of two police sketches side by side. The one on the left looked a bit like Trevor (if Trevor had been unfortunate enough to receive horribly botched plastic surgery) and the one on the right bore only a passing resemblance to Livia herself. They'd gotten her hair right but her nose was all wrong and they'd somehow managed to make her look both buck-toothed and cross-eyed at the same time.

"According to eyewitness reports, a white male in his late forties or early fifties and a female, also white and believed to be either in her late twenties or early thirties, were seen leaving the scene of the crime not long after the gunfire ended," Ms. Villarreal's disembodied voice continued. "Described by witnesses as being 'drenched in blood' while fleeing the establishment in an older model four door car, possibly grey in color with significant rust discoloration, these two are currently being sought for questioning by the Los Santos Police Department." They cut back to Ms. Villarreal one last time before she continued, "If anyone has any information about these two individuals or their whereabouts, we urge you to contact the LSPD immediately. As always, if you prefer to remain anonymous, you can call 1-800-555-TIPS. This is Julia Villarreal reporting for Weazel News."

Suddenly Barbie and Ken were back and Trevor's hand lifted to press a button on the remote and turn off the television. He sat there only a moment and then gave a sigh, muttering, "Well fuck me running sideways."

All through the news report Livia had sat there too stunned to move, not making a sound, but now her mind began shrieking at her, _GUILTY! Guilty of being an ACCOMPLICE to MURDER! That's what they'll say! COMPLICIT to the most heinous crime! You might as well be a MURDERER yourself!_ Her hands began twisting the bedsheet between her fists as her heartbeat reached her throat and stayed there, a nervous flutter that was far too fast.

It seemed as if Trevor could hear her thoughts somehow because he suddenly turned to look at her and said, "Guess I didn't get all of them, huh?"

Livia threw the covers off of her legs and stood from the bed, her legs shaking so hard that she found it difficult to stand. "Oh God, Trevor," she gasped, suddenly finding it hard to breathe as well. "What are we gonna do?"

He stood from the bed and turned to face her, cocking his head to one side, "What do you mean 'do'?"

She could feel her chest getting tight and then a hot flush fanned out over her face; drawing a cold and clammy sweat from her pale skin. Her hands were shaking and she could taste something bitter and acrid on the back of her tongue as she finally choked out, "You killed them and I was there... they'll think I had something to do with it too. I - I don't want to go to prison. I didn't do anything wrong..."

Trevor's eyes were unreadable as he said, "Of course you didn't do anything wrong, darlin'. You just gotta calm down. There's no reason to panic here."

"No reason to...?" she echoed, doing plenty of panicking already. "They're looking for us. They'll charge us with murder, Trevor. _Murder_. What if they give us the death penalty? Oh fuck, _fuck_! I don't want to fucking die, Trevor!"

Her 'oh shit' meter was running well over into the red now; having a full blown panic attack at the thought of some big lug in black slapping handcuffs on her while reading her her rights and then shoving her into the back of a police cruiser. She knew there was no way she'd survive in prison. He had been right about her being too soft; too kind-hearted. Those women on the inside would eat her alive.

Trevor closed the distance between them with two quick strides. She was dimly aware of his hands gripping her biceps hard enough to hurt as he leaned down to look at her eye to eye. "Don't talk like that," he told her, his voice edging toward real irritation. "Nothing's gonna happen."

She yanked herself out of his grip and took two big steps backward as if she had suddenly decided to be afraid of him again. "How do you know?" she asked, twisting her shirt between tightly clenched fists. "We came back c-covered in blood last night! What if somebody saw us? What if they already reported us? They could be on their way to arrest us right now!"

His face cramped into that angry look and he came forward with a snarl; grabbing her even more roughly than before. She struggled at first, trying to pull away, but he was much stronger than her. She felt one of his hands grip her left bicep again as the other slid under the sleep-tangled fall of her hair and closed around the back of her neck in a vice grip; bringing her close enough that she was forced to look into his eyes once more.

" _Livia! Calm the fuck down_!" he commanded through clenched teeth.

When she did not relax and actually tried to pull away again, his hand tightened until she let out a breathless cry of pain and finally stilled; looking up at him with wide, terrified blue eyes. She didn't respond to his words but the pain cut through the panic, making her stop long enough to shut off her own madly jibbering thoughts.

"Just stop it and _listen_ to me, goddamn it," he growled at her, his nostrils flaring in anger as he focused every bit of his considerable will upon her. "As long as you keep your fucking mouth shut and stop freaking out everything is gonna be fine. I promise, okay? You don't need to worry."

Livia trembled involuntarily in his grip but no longer tried to pull away from him, "How can you say that? We left our fingerprints all over that place. People _saw_ us leaving the scene of the crime!"

"What? Those police sketches?" Trevor gave a humorless grunt and shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "They looked nothing like us, darlin'. Shit, they can't even be permitted as evidence in court ninety percent of the time. As for the fingerprints, well, mine can't be traced back to me anyway...I made sure of that years ago. I can make sure yours can't be traced to you either. Just let me make a phone call and it's as good as done."

Livia took a deep, shuddering breath; wanting so badly to believe him. "Really?" she asked. "No bullshit?"

"No bullshit," he agreed, his hand loosening on her just a little; more caressing than biting now. "Come on, sweetheart, get dressed and gather up your shit. We gotta dump the Albany and get a new ride. It's past time we get the fuck out of here anyway."

"Okay, Trevor," she said, nodding and wiping away the tears from her eyes. Her heart was no longer beating quite so hard and she couldn't taste the panic in the back of her throat anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe he could make it so no one could pinpoint her being there. No one could slap cuffs on her and call her a murderer. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it," she said.

He smiled and kissed her mouth briefly, "That's my girl. Let's go."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Trevor decided it would be easiest if Livia waited somewhere safe while he took care of things so he gave Franklin a call and asked if he could drop her off over there for a little while. Surprisingly, Franklin said okay and they drove to Vinewood Hills, to a nice modern split level house with lots of windows. Trevor walked her to the door and before they could even knock Franklin had opened it.

"Hey guys," he said, smiling a little and waving them forward with one hand. "Come in."

Trevor released her hand when they came within a few feet of Franklin's front door and he said, "Hey, thanks for doing this, man. I can't stay but I'll be back as soon as I can." Franklin nodded and Trevor turned to face her, "Stay here, relax, hang out with Frank. He's a good kid and you can trust him. I promise you by the time we come back for you everything will be taken care of, okay?"

Livia replied, "Okay, Trevor. Just...be careful."

That seemed to please him because he leaned forward and kissed her passionately for a moment, one hand gripping her hip and the other the back of her neck again, pulling her closer. Then he broke the kiss and, pressing his forehead against hers so that all she could see were the intense black pits of his eyes, said, "Be good. See you soon."

A warning and a promise. She only nodded, swallowed thickly and whispered, "Yes, Trevor."

Then he was turning away and running back to the idling cab, leaving her standing there to look after him with bags of clothes in her hand and nothing else. She watched him drive away, her stomach begining to twist and turn inside of her; not sure if she'd ever see him again and even less sure how she felt about that possibility.

When Franklin spoke up from behind her she felt herself jump involuntarily; she'd almost forgotten that he was there.

"Uh, you can come inside," he offered, sounding slightly embarrassed. "He probably wouldn't want you waiting out here."

She turned back around and gave him a nervous smile, "Thank you and...I'm sorry if I'm imposing on you in any way."

Franklin shook his head at this and held his front door open, "Nah, don't be ridiculous. I wasn't planning on doing shit today other than washing my car and taking Chop for a walk anyway. It's all good."

Livia felt her smile become more natural and less forced, bowing her head in thanks before stepping past the threshold and into his home. He followed her in and locked the door behind them. She stood off to one side, looking around at his decor and feeling awkward and out of place in such a fancy house.

He moved past her a little and gestured toward the open floor plan in front of them, "Come on in and make yourself at home. You want something to drink?"

She looked over at him, "I guess I'll take a glass of water, if that's okay."

"Sure," he said. "This way."

She followed him to his kitchen (smaller than she had expected but plenty big enough for a bachelor, she supposed) and he took a cup out of one of his cabinets. As he filled it with ice from the machine in his fridge he said, "When Trevor called me he sounded kind of upset. Everything okay?"

It took her only a moment to remember what Trevor had said about keeping her mouth shut and cleared her throat before answering, "Uh...yeah. He just...said he needed to take care of some things and he wanted to make sure I'd be somewhere safe."

Franklin reached down and opened a cabinet full of bottled water and cases of soda. He grabbed a water and stood again, cracking it open and pouring it into the glass.

"He's always doing something, I guess," he said, keeping his eyes on what he was doing. "He never was one to sit still..." He sighed and added, "I don't know what he's got going on but you'll be safe here, he's right about that. No one's gonna fuck with you at my place."

She nodded gratefully as he set the bottle on the counter and handed the glass to her. He watched her down the water until the ice cubes clinked against her teeth and asked, "Are you hungry? I was actually getting ready to make something to eat. If you want I can throw another steak on and we can eat out on the deck."

Livia heard the word steak and her stomach began to growl. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a steak. "If it's no trouble," she said with a smile. "I could devour half a fucking cow right now."

Franklin smiled in response to hers and it lit up his whole face in a way that made at least half of her anxiety vanish instantly. "Alright," he said, already heading for the fridge. "Half a cow coming right up."

So she set her things down on his couch and followed him out onto the deck that had an awesome view overlooking the city. He was prepping his grill and she saw the inch thick Ribeyes sitting in their packaging; her stomach twisting in hunger yet again. They looked so good that she wanted to rip open that flimsy plastic and eat them raw even though she was normally a medium-rare kinda gal.

She made herself turn away with a real pang of regret and looked at Franklin's pool. The water was clear, sparkling and inviting; she could imagine how nice it would be to come out here and peacefully float while looking up at the sky. There wouldn't be a lot of stars at night because of all the light pollution but the sunrises and sunsets would be magnificent. It seemed like having a slice of paradise right in your own back yard.

Minutes later she heard the steaks sizzling as Frank slapped them down on the grill and she heard him cough a couple of times before he asked her, "Hey, you want some?"

She looked over, pulled out of her peaceful daydream, and saw that he was holding out something in his hand; something white and glowing at one end. She realized after a second that it was a joint he was offering and she walked forward to take it out of his hand, thinking, _Why the hell not? What's a little weed after seeing a man breathe his last? Might as well live a little._

Franklin smiled at her word of thanks and turned back to his grill. She hadn't smoked in almost six years but she remembered how, hitting it softly at first and holding it in as long as she could. It tasted good, even better than she remembered, and she relished it for a long moment before releasing it. She coughed a little on the exhale but her mind and body began to buzz pleasantly almost instantly and she sighed in contentment. She hit the joint again, harder this time, and passed it back to Frank. Puff, puff, pass. Just like in the old days.

Franklin took it back with a grin, "I knew you were a smoker. I had you pegged that first day."

She coughed a little more strongly the second time and shrugged, "It's been a while but, yeah, I used to smoke quite a bit back when I was younger. That was before it was legal here, though."

Franklin nodded and hit the joint again, flipping the steaks at the same time, "Oh you were a bad kid, huh? Skipping school to smoke and shit?"

She smiled wistfully, "Yeah. It was dumb but, you know, I don't really regret it. I had a lot of fun being bad."

"Hey, I'm not judging nobody," he said, holding his breath and making him almost sound as if he were in pain. "I did my fair share of that shit, too. I woulda been right there with you."

Livia took the joint back from him and hit it again, "Yeah, maybe."

They finished smoking and she helped Franklin prepare a salad to go with their steak, talking about meaningless shit and getting to know one another a little better so that things weren't so uncomfortable. By the time their food was done she was absolutely ravenous and she began gobbling her food with unabashed greed; hardly even tasting it.

Franklin watched her for a moment and finally commented with, "Damn, girl. When's the last time you ate?"

She thought a moment, chewing her food and wiping her chin with a napkin. After swallowing she said, "I'm not really sure. I can tell you that this is the best meal I've had in a good long while though."

Franklin took a bite of his own steak and chewed for a bit. When he was done he asked, "Trevor doesn't, um...he doesn't feed you?"

She took a drink of water and shrugged, her voice low and cautious as she answered, "Well, sometimes he forgets and...sometimes I do, too. There are times when I'm not even sure what day it is anymore."

Franklin frowned and cut his steak a little more aggressively than he had to. "I probably shouldn't have asked," he said, as if admonishing himself. "It's none of my fucking business anyway."

Livia looked up at him, shaking her head, "No, it's okay, Franklin."

His eyes lifted to meet hers and she could see the way he was wrestling with what he wanted to say next. Finally he set down his knife and fork and asked, "What the hell you doing with him anyway? You don't look like you're fucked up enough to be within half a mile of someone like him. You're...surprisingly normal."

Livia ate another bite of steak so she wouldn't have to answer right away; giving herself a moment to think of what to say. She swallowed her food and, unable to stall any longer, she said, "Honestly, I doubt Trevor would just _let_ me go now. He's...he's dangerous and crazy. Even if he did decide to let me go, I don't have anywhere else to go anyway. My husband was the only person I knew out here and after what happened to him, I don't have anyone. I don't have any close friends and I haven't spoken to any of my blood relatives in almost a decade. Where else can I go?"

Franklin seemed to have forgotten about his reprimand to himself only moments ago, leaning forward and asking, "What happened to your husband?"

Livia took a deep breath and told him, "Long story short, I found out my husband was cheating on me..." She frowned down at her plate, thinking, and then, "At least I'm pretty sure he was even though he was too cowardly to admit to it. So Trevor took me to confront him and Paul was drunk so there was...an altercation. Paul got hurt pretty bad but I guess it could've been worse. Trevor could've just shot him."

Franklin's surprise at her story was evident on his handsome face and he sat there absorbing this information for a long moment. "Damn. That sounds fucked up," he said finally, giving a shake of his head. He forked another bite of salad into his mouth and took a drink from his own glass before asking, "So...what? You just gonna stay with Trevor's crazy ass forever then?"

She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture and repeated, "Where else can I go?" She felt a lump rise in her throat and fought against the tears now threatening to come, her voice changing; becoming harsh and bitter as she continued, "I don't have any money and even if I did I'm sure Paul would never willingly give me one fucking cent of it. I haven't been to work in almost a week so I'm sure I lost my job by now but you know what? It's okay because I didn't make enough money to pay rent by myself anyway." She gave a cynical laugh that made her seem older than she really was and angry tears filled her eyes as she mused aloud, "Oh, I guess I could try to find a nice spot under a bridge somewhere or possibly try my luck at prostitution. I don't think I'd do so well at that kind of work, though. I can't even stand it when a stranger stands too close to me in line at the store, you know? Pretty fucking sad when staying with a mass-murdering, drug-addicted psychopath is your best bet of staying warm and fed."

"Hey," Franklin said, sounding uneasy as he held his hands up in surrender. "Look, I had no idea shit was that serious and I...I didn't mean to upset you, for real. You obviously got your reasons for sticking around and I respect that. I'm sorry I said anything."

Livia realized that her whole body had tightened like a fist while she'd been talking and she had to force herself to relax; feeling slightly embarrassed for going off like that. "No," she said, giving her head a shake but unable to bring herself to look at him again. "It's okay. You didn't know."

They finished their late lunch/early dinner without further discussion, both of them sitting in uncomfortable silence as they soaked up sunshine and filled their bellies. Eventually they went back inside and watched the first half of a movie together; something stupid with a lot of car chases and very little plot or coherent dialogue. When Franklin produced another joint and asked if she wanted to smoke again she agreed and they got nicely toasted waiting for Trevor to come back. Eventually the THC took full effect and she dozed off; curled into the fetal position with her hands tucked under her chin like a tired child. Franklin covered her with a light blanket before turning off the movie and going out to give Chop his walk.


	26. Chapter 26

Livia came awake when something warm and wet slathered across her face. She sputtered, swinging her hands weakly in front of her to ward off whatever smelly thing was there.

"Chop!" She heard Franklin yell from somewhere nearby. "Down, boy! Leave her alone! Damn it, Chop! Act like you got some sense!"

She heard a grunt and then the tongue that had been trying to lick the inside of her nose was suddenly gone. She sat up, wiping at her face in disgust and grimacing as her hand came away slimy. "Ew," she said, trying to fling away the thick coating of slobber on her fingers. " _Gross._ "

"Sorry about that," Franklin said, grunting with effort as he dragged the enormous Rottweiler away; the dog whining as his nails dug into the carpet for purchase. "I had him locked up in the bathroom before just so he wouldn't do this type of shit while we ate. I was gonna give his stank ass a bath after our walk but he got away from me."

She blinked up at the young man and then down at the dog, a small smile appearing on her lips as she wiped at her face again. "It's okay," she said, standing and shrugging off the blanket Franklin had covered her with. "This must be Chop." Speaking to the dog now, she said, "You're a friendly boy, aren't you?"

Chop barked once and wagged his tail, his big pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as his entire rear end wagged enthusiastically back and forth. He was doing everything in his power to break free from Franklin and jump on her again but Franklin held him back...barely.

"Oh, he can be friendly when he wants to be," Frank agreed with another grunt of effort. "But he's also dumb as fuck most of the time too."

Livia snorted laughter and passed her hand over her face in a second futile attempt to wipe the moisture away, "Ugh, where's your bathroom?"

"Downstairs," he answered, tilting his head toward the staircase near the front door. "First door on the left. I'm just gonna go put this big fucker out back where he belongs before he tries to jump on you again."

Then he was leading the dog away, scolding him like an obstinate child the whole time. "What the hell's wrong with you?" he asked in a hushed tone. "How many times I gotta tell you? Don't be jumpin' on our guests like that, Chop. It's _rude_. Sometimes I don't know what I'm gonna do with your big ass if you don't start actin' right."

Livia chuckled again and shook her head, heading downstairs to locate the bathroom. She washed her face and used the toilet, avoiding her own gaze in the mirror while she washed her hands without even being aware that she was doing it. When she came back upstairs she saw that the sunlight had changed, that it was rapidly fading and getting darker outside. Frowning as the first thread of unease wormed its way into her belly, she found Franklin sitting on the couch flipping through the channels on his huge TV.

"Has Trevor called?" she asked, coming to sit on the other end of the couch.

Frank glanced over at her and shook his head, "Nah. But don't worry. He'll come back. He wouldn't just leave you here."

"I know," she said.

But as time dragged on and twilight turned into real dark, she began to wonder; her stomach now twisting constantly with anxiety. Would Trevor leave her here? It was something that would've been an answer to her prayers only a couple of days ago but now it was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

This was fucked. This whole situation was fucked. She shouldn't want this maniac to come back for her, she knew she shouldn't, but she didn't want to be left hanging, either. Maybe he'd been bullshitting her after all. Maybe he was on his way out of the state and his whole spiel about her fingerprints had been nothing more than a ploy to keep her here long enough so that he could get away. Maybe - 

"Hey," Franklin said, pulling her out of this torturous run of thoughts. "You okay?"

Livia let out a deep breath that she hadn't even been aware that she was holding and forced herself to nod and say, "Yeah, yeah. I'm... I'm good."

"Okay," Franklin said, turning off the TV and tossing the remote onto the coffee table. "'Cause you look kinda stressed." 

She shrugged, feeling awkward again as she tried on a smile that failed miserably, "Just a little worried, that's all."

He looked at his phone to check the time and his eyebrows furrowed in irritation, "Shit...it _is_ getting kinda late. Where is this fool?"

Livia rubbed her hands nervously along the outside of her thighs and offered, "Maybe you should give him a call?"

Franklin seemed to think about it for a moment, still frowning down at his phone, and then finally shook his head. "Nah," he said, putting his phone back in his pocket. "It's probably better if we don't bother him. He'll be back soon, I bet."

Another uncomfortable silence descended on them and she tried to think of something to say but couldn't think of a single meaningless pleasantry that she hadn't already exchanged with him. After a few minutes of quiet so intense that she could hear the traffic passing by on the street outside, Franklin spared her the trouble of trying to break the silence, "Man, fuck it. You wanna get drunk?"

Livia looked over at him and surprised herself by agreeing, "Sure. Why not?"

So she followed Franklin to his kitchen again and he brought out a bottle of tequila and a couple of shot glasses. Franklin didn't have limes but he did have e-Cola to chase it with so they sat down at the table and he raised his glass at her, "To good fortune."

She raised hers in return and said, "To good health."

They both drank at the same time and she slammed her glass down on the table; choking a little as the eighty proof liquor took her breath away. She cried "Dear God!" as she gasped for breath and reached for her glass of soda. She heard Franklin laughing and then he was taking his own sip of soda to kill the burn; almost squirting it out of his nose. They both laughed uproariously about this and things were much more comfortable between them as they continued to drink.

Three shots later and Franklin suddenly pulled out his bong. Livia said yes again and she hit it too hard the first time; the liquor already clouding her judgement. She almost died coughing but Franklin pounded on her back and asked, "It's some good shit, huh?" She nodded, her face red from lack of oxygen, and Franklin stood again. "Think you can handle another shot?"

Livia's head was spinning as she wiped at her leaking eyes and, finally gasping in enough air to speak, said, "Pour me one. I'm not about to let some kid out-drink me."

Franklin only laughed and poured her another shot, shaking his head and swaying a little as he brought it over to her.

They ended up drinking half of the bottle of tequila and smoking six more bowls and by the time three in the morning rolled around, Livia was so out of it that she had forgotten all about Trevor. They were both well into the land of being totally sauced when Franklin suddenly stood from the table and said, "God _damn_ , I'm hungry. You..." He blinked at her, holding the edge of the table to keep from falling over, and pointed in her general direction. "You wanna pizza?"

Livia tried to stand but the floor had sharp angles that it hadn't had before and she sat back down hard; almost missing the chair entirely and tottering on the edge of balance before finally settling again. "Uhhhhh," she said, shaking her head as if to dispell the cobwebs in her brain. "No way. I'll throw it up."

Franklin pushed himself away from the table and stumbled toward the kitchen, his voice too loud as he said, "I'm makin' a pizza. You don' hafta eat it if you don' wanna. It's gonna be good though."

Then he was making his way to the kitchen, zigging and zagging and almost falling several times. Livia cradled her head in her hands, her elbows resting on the table, and tried to fight the dizziness threatening to consume her. Minutes later, when everything seemed to settle more or less, she lifted her head and saw Franklin peering at the back of a frozen pizza box; squinting one eye and popping the other one open wide as if it might help him see better.

Livia forced herself to stand from the table and carefully made her way over to the kitchen, reaching out for the box he held in front of him, "Here. Lemme see it."

Franklin handed it over willingly and said, "I think shit's written in fuckin' Greek or something."

Livia made her eyes focus on the tiny words. Four hundred degrees, twenty minutes. Easy peasey, lemon squeezey. She turned on the oven and ripped open the plastic covering the pizza with her teeth, setting it on the wire rack before shutting the oven door. She looked around for Franklin and found him standing at the counter breaking up what looked like half a pound of weed. He was spilling it everywhere, making a complete mess, and she tottered over to him on bare feet, holding her hands out to keep her balance.

"I can do that," she said, shaking her head in an effort to clear it some and getting a mouthful of hair that she immediately spat out again.

Franklin lifted an eyebrow at her and blinked slowly; one eye at a time. "Yeah?" he asked, smiling a little and then grabbing the counter to keep himself steady. "Alright. Shit, I can't hardly see anyway."

"Go," she said, flapping one hand at him. "Sit."

Franklin obeyed, stumbling a little and damn near braining himself as he rounded the corner to sit at the table again. Livia relied almost totally on muscle memory to roll a joint and came back to sit next to him. She grabbed his lighter from the table top and lit it, hitting it twice before passing it over.

Franklin took the joint and examined it a moment before hitting it, "Alright, girl. You got skills. My ass could'na rolled that good right now. I'm waaay too fucked up."

She shot a finger gun at him and winked, "Ah, but you underestimated how big of a pothead I used to be."

Franklin passed the joint back and chuckled, "You well on your way to being one again if you don't slow down."

Livia laughed at that and hit the joint again, "Yeah? Well, fuck it. There are worse things to be, right?"

Franklin gave a thumbs up in affirmation and blew out his hit, "Abso-fucking-lutely. Amen."

So they smoked the joint down to a roach and ended up sitting there beside one another dozing in and out of consciousness; both of them hovering somewhere in that hazy land between awake and asleep. When she came back to semi-awareness half an hour after they'd finished smoking, she immediately wrinkled her nose at the overpowering smell of smoke around her. She lifted her head, blinking away the blurriness in her eyes, and looked around to see it drifting up near the ceiling. She was wondering why it looked so dark when the smoke alarm decided to go off; nearly giving her a heart attack.

She jerked to her feet, galvanized by sudden primal terror, and grabbed Franklin's shoulder; yelling his name and giving him a hard shake. His head snapped up from the surface of the table and he reached for her; grabbing her arm in a panicky grip as his brown eyes went wide. "Wha' fuck?!" he gasped. "Wha's goin' on?!"

"Your pizza!" she shouted in order to be heard over the smoke alarm. "We forgot about it! It's on fire!!"

Franklin's mouth dropped open and he lunged clumsily to his feet. He made a blind run for the kitchen, crashing into a chair and knocking it aside with a loud clatter, almost going on his ass at the same time. He recovered, however, and Livia followed behind; going around the chair much more carefully than he had. She entered the kitchen and found him pulling open the oven door; his eyes big white circles of shock. Thick black smoke poured out right into his face, making him cough and hack and wheeze, and then he was reaching down for the oven rack with one bare hand. He only grasped the hot metal for maybe a second at most but it was long enough for the heat to register in his alcohol-dulled senses and he released it with a surprised cry of pain.

"Ow! Mother _fucka_!" he yelled, gripping the wrist of his injured hand and holding his palm up in front of his face as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Oh, Jesus! Fuck! _Move_!" Livia exclaimed, grabbing two pot holders from the little hook they hung from on the wall next to him and bumping him aside with one hip.

Slipping the pot holders on was the work of only seconds and then she was pulling the rack out and grabbing the blackened, smoking pizza from the furnace-like oven. She turned her face away from the billowing smoke, holding her breath, and took it to his big stainless steel sink. She dumped it in and then quickly turned on the water; grasping the nozzle and pulling it away so that she could hose the pizza down.

She heard Franklin continue to curse even over the incessant _beep! beep!_ of the smoke alarm and the equally loud hissing sound of the pizza being exstinguished. Shouting yet again to be heard, she said, "Franklin! Go kill that fucking alarm! _Please_!"

He looked away from his burned hand and nodded, grabbing a dish towel from the countertop and racing for the smoke alarm in the dining room. He began to frantically wave the dishtowel in front of the smoke alarm, coughing and wincing at the pain from his burned hand.

Livia had finally managed to water-log the pizza enough to put it out when the doorbell rang. Wiping at her forehead with one hand, leaving a long smear of soot, she shut off the faucet and tossed the potholders back onto the counter before heading for the door. She had gone maybe three steps when she heard someone begin pounding on the door, causing it to rattle hard in its frame.

Trevor's voice came through to her as the smoke alarm finally quit; sounding angry and concerned at the same time. "Livia!! Frank!!" he roared, his words punctuated by his fist slamming into the wood again and again. "What the _fuck_ is going on in there?! _Open up_!!"

She struggled with the lock only a moment and then opened the door to see him standing there with a scowl etched deeply into his countenance. He waved a hand in front of his face as the smoke hit him and said, "What the fuck are you two doing? Trying to set the place on fire?" His scowl lifted just a little, showing the beginning of a smile as he added, "Why didn't you wait for me? I love a good fire."

Franklin came up to stand behind her and Trevor looked back and forth between them several times before giving an exasperated sigh and shaking his head. "Okay, kids," he said, spreading his hands in a magnanimous gesture. "Playtime's over. Get your shit, darlin'. We're leaving."

Livia nodded and almost ran into Franklin in her haste to obey. He caught her before they could bonk heads and said, "Come on, girl. I'll help you."

She nodded and then allowed him to take her arm and lead her back to his living room. He grabbed her bags while she hunted for her shoes and then he went to the kitchen, presumably to make sure that the fire really was out. She stumbled around a minute, looking for her shoes, and finally spied one under the coffee table. She didn't know Trevor was standing there watching her until she banged her knee on the table and almost fell over backwards onto the couch.

"Holy hell," he said, sounding strangely amused and irritated at the same time. "You're drunk, aren't you?"

Livia shook her head to get her hair out of her eyes and said, "Only a little."

She saw him eyeing the tequila bottle on the dining room table for a moment and then he turned back to her with a smirk on his face, "Suuuure." 

"Don't make fun of me," she said holding her sneaker in her hand and swaying a little on her feet. "Just help me find my other shoe. Please?"

Trevor sighed and shook his head again, pretending to be put-out as he came down the four steps or so to help her. It only took maybe a minute before he found it lying under the couch and she sat on one end of it while he helped her put them on; propping her heels up on his knee and tying them for her like a preschooler who hadn't quite mastered that particular skill yet.

"So who's idea was the tequila?" he asked, looking up at her with that eyebrow raised again.

"Mine," Franklin said as he came back into the room with her bags in hand. "And, shit, for real, it's my bad, dog. We was jus' tryna kill some time until you came back."

"Franklin is a very good host," she told Trevor, yawning and having trouble keeping her eyes open now that the whole pizza crisis had passed. "Gave me some steak and, mmmm, let me take a nap."

"Good, good," Trevor said, standing up again. "I'm glad you two had fun." He reached down and took one of her hands in his, pulling her to her feet again. "But we should let Frank go to bed now, huh?"

Livia leaned on his arm, barely able to support herself now, "Yep. Frankie needs to go beddy-bye."

Trevor chuckled and led her to the door, practically holding her up, "Yeah. Come on, ya lush."

Franklin trailed along behind them and as Trevor pulled open the door again he thrust the bags into her hands and said, "Take care of yourself, girl. Drop by any time, hear?"

She saluted him, nearly dropping her bags as she gave him a smile, and then Trevor was leading her outside and toward an older model Bobcat truck with a big dent in the tailgate. She waved to Franklin one last time before Trevor put her in the passenger seat and ran around the front of the truck to hop into the driver's side.

Then they were pulling away from the curb and into the night. She dozed again for a long moment, her head nearly falling to her chest before coming back up at the sound of Trevor's voice. "I don't know if I want you hanging out with that kid anymore," he said, sounding as if he were only half joking. "Seems like he's a bad influence on you."

Livia burst into drunken laughter at this and her bags fell from her lap, spilling their contents out onto her legs and feet. As she was bending down and cleaning it all up again her hand happened upon a Ziploc bag. Puzzled, she pulled it up to peer at it and found that it was partially filled with big lime green nuggets of weed. She saw several packs of rolling papers in one corner and laughed again; delighted. "I'll be damned! Thank you, Frank!"

Trevor looked over, saw the bag, and gave a disgusted sigh; apparently having at least some dislike for the stuff. "Errrr, alright, that's it. No more sleepovers with your new 'bestie'," he told her, releasing the wheel long enough to put air quotation marks around the term as his face cramped into a look of supreme irritation. "Seriously...you two are trouble together."

Something about this struck her funny and she laughed harder than ever as Trevor grumbled to himself and sped down the darkened streets of Los Santos.


	27. Chapter 27

Livia woke the next day and groaned as she lifted her head from the pillow. She cracked one eye open and winced as the bright light around her stabbed into her retinas like burning needles; drawing a cry of surprised pain from her. She threw up one hand in an effort to block out some of the light and as she shifted she heard a faint yet unmistakable plastic-rubbing-against-fabric sound. Her head pounded and throbbed like a rotten tooth as she rose up onto one elbow; feeling the mattress give dramatically beneath her before realizing that she was laying on a cheap inflatable mattress.

She looked around warily for a bit, her eyes still slitted against the bright sunshine, and she was unsure of where she was...or even _when_ she was. For the moment it was as if time had slipped backwards and she had been magically transported to when she was twenty and in her first shitty apartment with Paul.

She was in a big empty room with plain white paint on the walls and cheap beige carpet on the floor. There was a closed door on the wall opposite from her, an open door showing an empty closet on her left and an open door to her right. She knew the door on her right was a bathroom because she saw the mellow porcelain gleam of a toilet and a cabinet/sink combo against a non-descript white tile wall but none of this made her feel sure one way or the other.

Now desperately wanting to banish that strange feeling of deja-vu, she looked up at the ceiling over her head and let a out a little sigh of relief at what she saw there. There wasn't a big ugly brownish-yellow water stain in the shape of a strawberry, it was just plain white textured paint, and that was what finally convinced her. She wasn't in the old apartment on Abbey Street and time hadn't somehow doubled back on itself. The last fifteen years of her life really had happened; all the struggle and pain and intermittent joy had been real after all. She rubbed at her head with one hand as if to soothe the aching pain beneath the gentle pressure of her fingers; wondering where the hell Trevor had brought her to this time.

She gave another sigh, this one tired, and rolled off of the mattress and onto her feet. As she tried to stand, she felt her entire body cry out in protest and she gave another pained groan. Suddenly everything that had happened the night before came back to her; hanging out with Frank, smoking too much, drinking way too much, the pizza fiasco. That was why everything hurt so bad, why even her very bones ached inside of her shaky, weak and traitorous body. She had a hangover, the first real one she'd had in at least ten years or so, and it was all because she'd wanted to pretend she could still keep up with a twenty five year old.

"I am such a fucking _idiot_ ," she said out loud, holding her head in her hands as if to keep it from pounding apart. "I swear to God I'm never drinking tequila again as long as I live."

Livia waited until the throbbing inside of her skull had dulled some and tried to stand again. It was easier this time but she groaned with the effort anyway as her leg muscles tried to cramp on her near the end. She made her way to the other side of the room, her shoulders hunched up and her feet shuffling like an old woman's, and went into the bathroom. She didn't turn on the light, the dimness was less painful and blessedly cool and she didn't need it to guide her as she skimmed down her leggings and panties and squatted to relieve herself.

When she was done, she washed her hands with a bar of soap left on one side of the sink. Out of curiosity, she looked in the medicine cabinet and found a brand new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste still in their packaging. So she went about the task of grimly brushing her teeth and then scoured her tongue with the raised ridges on the back of the brush to remove the taste of last night's alcohol from her mouth. She rinsed, spit, wiped her hands and face off on her shirt (new soap and all but towels were missing, she noticed) and then headed for the only closed door she'd seen.

Livia grasped the plain brass knob and pulled the door open, seeing a short hallway with two closed doors, one on each side, and then a darker area where the hallway branched off. She walked down the hall, her bare feet hardly making sound on the hardwood floor beneath them, and found that the end of the short hallway opened up to a living room on the left and a kitchen/dining room on the right; separated by a three foot thick, load-bearing wall between them. Both rooms were devoid of any furniture other than a couple of camp chairs sitting around a small wooden table in the dining room and a few bags and boxes piled in one corner of the living room. All else was quiet and empty.

"Hello?" she called, wincing again as the sound made her head pound harder than ever. 

She lifted one hand to her head, rubbing the place above her right eye where the pain was the worst, and stepped out of the hallway and into the living room. She moved toward the front door and was just reaching for the knob when she heard the sound of a screen door opening. She stepped away, suddenly worried, and heard a key scrape the lock. She didn't know if she should run and hide or be relieved and her indecision rooted her to the spot.

The lock turned and then the door opened, revealing Trevor and Wade with their arms full of grocery bags. Livia saw Trevor's mouth stretch into a smile as he said, "Good afternoon, sleepyhead." He thrust the bags he was carrying in his hands into hers and then, "Put these away. There's a lot more shit to unload."

Livia struggled with the bags; they were heavy and one of them seemed like it was full of canned goods and was desperately close to ripping and spilling everywhere. "I don't understand," she said, giving her head a shake as her eyebrows knotted together in concern. "Where the fuck are we?"

"We'll talk in a minute," he replied, shoving against Wade's shoulder and pushing him into the house with her. "He'll help you while I unload the truck."

Livia didn't get a chance to respond because Trevor was already gone, leaving the door wide open and revealing a lush green front lawn and a sleepy residential street that could've been anywhere in the city. She only looked out a moment, though, and then she was moving toward the hallway again; entering the kitchen/dining room. The kitchen was decent sized, with plenty of counter space and appliances that looked fairly new. She set the bags on the counter and started putting them away; filling the refrigerator, cabinets and pantry until Trevor had finished bringing things to her and began to help put it all away. Her head still pounded but she tried to ignore it, telling herself that it would get better with time.

As Trevor tossed a box of trash bags under the sink he asked, "How do you like the new place?"

She shrugged, "Not bad. Empty but not bad."

"We'll find some furniture and all that other shit to fill this place up with," Trevor said, setting boxes of cereal on top of the fridge. "A couple of trips to the curbs around town before trash day and we'll be set."

"Yeah," Wade said from the corner of the room where he munched on a box of Cracker Jacks from one grimy fist; his voice almost unintelligible around the caramel coated popcorn and peanuts mixture. "You wouldn't believe some of the things people throw away. The nicer the area, the nicer the stuff."

She actually would believe it, having gone trash-picking herself a time or two in her life, but she kept her mouth shut and finished putting away the groceries. When they were done she turned to Trevor expectantly and asked, "How did you get this place?"

"Don't worry, darlin'," he returned with a grin. "I paid for it. It's all ours, free and clear. It belonged to my buddy Lester and he gave me a great deal on it. Paid cash for it and got the deed at about eight last night. It was all one hundred percent legitimate business."

Livia's eyebrows came together as she said, "Hold up. We're talking about property in Los Santos. You had to pay what? At least a hundred grand for this place? How the fuck did you get enough money to pay for it? Meth can't be _that_ profitable."

Trevor's smile grew and there was a devilish twinkle in his dark eyes that spoke of secrets he wasn't about to divulge with her. "Oh, you'd be surprised," he said, coming over to drape an arm over her shoulders and hug her. "But if you must know, I'm also the proud owner of several legitimate businesses in and around greater San Andreas."

"Trevor owns that rock bar," Wade said, still crunching on Cracker Jacks. "The Tequi-La-La? It's pretty famous, you know."

She looked up at Trevor, one eyebrow lifted in surprise and skepticism, "No fucking way. I used to go there almost every weekend when I was in my twenties."

"Hmmm," Trevor said, his dark eyes running over the curves of her body. "I bet."

"Wait a minute," she said, holding up her hands and looking at Trevor as if he had suddenly grown another head. "You can't expect me to believe that you'd live out in a trailer in the middle of nowhere when you've got that kind of money." She looked back and forth between the two of them and stepped away from Trevor's arm, "You guys are pulling my leg."

Trevor's smile was gone, his mouth set in a hard line as he shook his head and replied, "No, darlin'. I had to wade through a river of shit and blood to get it but I've got enough money that I could wipe my ass with hundred dollar bills for the rest of my life if I wanted to."

If Livia didn't know him as well as she did, she might have been inclined not to believe him. As it was, she only found herself stunned and more confused by him than ever; still not comprehending. "What do you mean?" she asked. "What did you do?"

Trevor's hand lay on the place where her shoulder and neck met and said, "The better question is what didn't I do. But you don't need to concern yourself with that. Just be happy knowing that you managed to bag yourself a multi-millionaire."

Livia felt her mouth drop open, "A mil - "

Trevor chuckled and kissed the corner of her gaping mouth. "That's right," he told her with a slow nod before smiling and tapping her chin with one finger. "Don't leave your mouth open like that, sugar. You're giving me _loads_ of impure thoughts."

She shut it with a snap; still struggling to wrap her head around all this new information. It was completely fucking nuts but it made a strange sort of sense though, didn't it? That was why he never seemed to run out of money even after his meth business was destroyed; why he never seemed concerned about cost. He'd been able to pay Franklin back for the damage done to his house and enough to buy this place outright. He had more than enough money to do whatever the fuck he wanted and never face a single one of the repercussions. Money equaled power and a man like Trevor with that kind of power was horrifying. He could hurt her much more than she would've ever suspected...and in so many more ways.

He seemed to see some of this on her face and asked, "What's wrong?"

She pulled away from him. "Nothing," she said, rubbing at her aching forehead with shaking fingers. "Nothing's wrong. Don't worry about it."

"Wade, go to your room," Trevor ordered with a dismissive wave, never looking away from Livia's drawn expression.

Wade didn't ask any questions, just took his Cracker Jacks and skedaddled. Livia only stood there, feeling mildly nauseous and trying to ignore it. Trying to get herself under control before she attempted to speak again. She felt Trevor's hands descend on her shoulders and they began to rub; rumpling her t-shirt and causing her to stiffen up.

"What's wrong?" he asked again. Then, in his commanding voice. "Tell me."

She moved as if to pull away again but his hands clamped down suddenly, keeping her in place. "I just don't feel good," she tried. "I want to go lay back down for a while."

"No," he said. "Stay. Come on, I'll make you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," she said, her stomach cramping uneasily inside of her. "Really, I just want to lie down."

"Goddamn it, tell me what's wrong," he demanded, shifting moods like the wind changing directions without warning; beginning to sound irritated. "I got us this place and I didn't even have to kill anybody to do it. I thought you'd be _happy_. I only did it because I thought it was what you wanted...because I love you and I want to make you happy, Livia."

She didn't know if it was the hangover or what but she could feel something bubbling up inside of her; some great push of emotion that had all of her fear and anger and sorrow rolled up into one big ball of hurt. Suddenly she couldn't stay silent anymore and she ripped herself out of his grip so fast that the collar of her shirt tore; turning to face him and look him right in the eyes.

"Will you _please_ stop saying that?" she asked, unshed tears sparkling in her furious ocean blue eyes. "I don't even know you and - and the things I _do_ know scare the fucking shit out of me!" She stepped away from him, seeing the hurt on his face but not believing it for a moment. She couldn't hurt this madman; it seemed as if nothing could. "I said it once but you didn't listen to me. _You don't know what love is, Trevor._ All you know is what you want and for the life of me I can't figure out why the hell you'd want me! Once you get tired of fucking me and playing house you'll move on to the next person...and the next and the next." Her head was pounding even worse than when she'd first woken up and she rubbed at her forehead again; her next words coming out weak and breathless. "I'll just be a distant memory and lucky if I'm still alive when all is said and done."

She could still see the hurt in his eyes but underneath it there was something else; some steely look akin to anger but wasn't. She couldn't quite read him just now and that could be a bad sign...not that she had any intention of heeding it. She was in too much pain and this had been building up for too long.

"That's not true," he argued, his voice flat; terrifying. "I wouldn't do that. _I'm not like that_."

"Oh, spare me," she scoffed at him as the tears finally spilled over and ran down her ashen cheeks. "I spent sixteen years with a man who said he loved me and what did that get me? A broken fucking heart and no life at all. You know...I don't believe you any more than I think I'd believe Paul at this point."

Trevor only stood there looking at her for a long time, his head lowered slightly so that the shadows on his face were deep. She could see his eyes narrow on hers and that his mouth was cramped down into a hard line but he didn't move a muscle the whole time; barely even blinking. She stared back at him, heart pounding, head pounding and her breath coming in ragged little hitches but she didn't move either. If he wanted to be mad he could be mad. If he wanted to kill her he could easily do that as well. She wasn't going to back down this time, though. She couldn't betray her own feelings any longer.

Trevor was the one who lost the staring match by turning away and heading back down the hall without saying a word. She watched him go, surprised and confused, and heard one of the doors shut behind his heavy steps. She took a moment to regain her composure and then followed, moving as silently as possible and not really even knowing why.

When she reached the hall she saw that every door was shut other than the one she'd come out of earlier. She saw lights under the door to her left and tiptoed over to it. She heard water running and realized that Trevor must be in the bathroom; possibly shaving or washing his hands or whatever. She didn't know and didn't think she should bother him so she just made her way back to the bedroom and laid down again.

Despite her recent bout of word vomit, she was asleep not long after; the worried look on her face finally smoothing out as she snored softly into her pillow.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia came awake maybe an hour later and sat up feeling moderately better. As she opened the door and peered out into the hallway, she listened for a long moment before stepping out. Going back into sneak mode for a second time, she made her way to the bathroom and saw that the door was open now. She looked in and gasped when she saw a pool of blood on the floor. It wasn't very big but it was dark and there were more drips and splashes and smears of blood on and around the sink and counter. She saw a trail of it leading back to her and suddenly her heart and head were pounding again, her nerves singing with the adrenaline that flooded her body and made her hair feel as if it were standing on end.

She turned and ran for the kitchen, following the tiny blood trail and moving so fast that it felt like her feet barely touched the ground. She wanted to call out (for Trevor or for Wade, she wasn't sure which one) but she couldn't; she was too frightened. She was suddenly sure that one of them was hurt or possibly dying and doubly sure that it was somehow her fault. She'd hurt Trevor and he'd taken it out on Wade or...

Livia reached the kitchen and found Trevor sitting at the table with his back to her; shirtless and smoking. The blood trail stopped where he sat and she finally found her voice again, sounding rusty and cracked but still hers. "Trevor! Oh my God, what happened?"

He turned to look at her and smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting as he stood from the chair to face her. "Hey, darlin'," he said, his eye twitching a little he set his pipe down on the table. "Come here. I want to show you something."

She stepped closer, shaking harder than ever, and saw the blood soaked paper towels stuck to the left side of his chest; layers and layers of them as if he'd just added more and more on top each time the ones below had soaked through.

"W-what happened to you?" she whispered, her eyes so wide that they looked like they might fall out of their sockets. "Why are you bleeding?"

"That's what I want to show you," he said, his smile bigger than ever. He reached out and took her hand as she drew near enough and with his other hand he reached over to peel off one corner of his makeshift bandage. He didn't grimace or act as if he were in any pain but there was so much blood; he had to be hurt pretty badly to bleed like that. 

Livia felt her stomach lurch at the squelchy noise of Trevor pulling the paper towels off and then she was looking directly at his oozing wound. She saw something that looked like a large crudely carved heart and in the middle of it was something else; something with four or five letters but she couldn't quite make them out. The tip of the heart stopped just above his left nipple and the bleeding had slowed some but it still trickled out even now, dark red and thick; obscuring most of what was 'written' inside of the heart he'd carved into his flesh.

"I did this for you," he said, his voice drilling into her ears and leaving scars there. Letting her know unequivocally that, yes, she was directly responsible for this new horror. "I wanted to show you how serious I am when I say I love you. And to show you just how _committed_ I can really be."

Then his hand swept across the wound and cleared enough of the blood off so that she could clearly see the letters this time. Cut deep into the meat of his pectoral muscle was her name; big bold letters that revealed the raw pinkness of the meat beneath his skin.

 **LIVIA**.

She looked back up into his eyes and they were sparkling with madness again; his unbridled insanity pointed at her like a loaded gun. She'd actually hurt him with her words earlier and then he'd gone on to hurt himself in an effort to prove his love somehow. It was disgusting and scary but it had it's intended effect. She knew that he'd never stop; he'd never give up. He was deeply twisted and it seemed that his feelings for her were only growing stronger with time rather than lessening; pushing him to stranger places than she'd ever known existed.

"See? Do you see it?" he asked, his voice becoming a pleased purr as he brought her hand up to touch his injury and smear blood on her palm as she stood there totally stunned; unable to move and almost forgetting to breathe. "You won't be just a memory to me, sweetheart. How could you be when I'm going to wear this for the rest of my life? I love you, Livia, and I always will. That's a promise."


	28. Chapter 28

Livia stood there for a long time with the feel of Trevor's blood coating her skin and tried to think of the right thing to say; not wanting to set him off again. She never wanted to find out just how much farther he would be willing to go in order to 'prove' something to her. God forbid that he would decide to practice his carving skills on someone else next time.

Finally she tore her gaze away from his and spoke as gently as possible, "You shouldn't have done that to yourself. This is..." She shook her head and whispered, "Trevor, this is _bad_."

He gave a chuckle and released her hand, "It's not as bad as it looks. Trust me, I've had worse." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers for a moment, his hands coming up to hold her waist in a tight, almost painful grip. She felt his tongue slip along the seam of her lips and she turned her head away quickly. His hands tightened down even more, as if he were afraid that she'd step away from him and now his voice was thick with desire as he said, "And it's nowhere near as bad as you thinking that I don't love you." 

"You shouldn't have done this," she repeated, chewing her lower lip as she looked down at the blood that now coated her hand. "I mean it, Trevor. What were you thinking? It...it could get _infected_." She looked up at him again and continued in an unsteady voice, "And....and what if we can't get the bleeding to stop? You need to go to the hospital. You might need stitches or antibiotics or...or..."

But Trevor was already shaking his head, a dark, furious look clouding his face suddenly; replacing the smile that had been there seconds before. "Fuck that," he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes widening and showing her another brief glimpse of the ever-present rage beneath the surface. " _No hospital, no doctors_. If one of those nosey cunts gets a good look at this it's off to the psych ward I go. They'll pump me full of shit that'll turn me into a fucking zombie. Uh-uh. No way am I letting that happen."

Livia thought that getting help for his mental problems was exactly what he needed but his reaction alone told her she was never going to be able to convince him. He would probably rather shoot a shrink before he'd talk to one.

"We have to clean it up at least," she told him, rubbing her hand on the scant fabric covering her thigh in an effort to rid herself of the sick feeling of his blood on her skin. "We need to get clean bandages and disinfectant. You can't..." She squeaked a little on the last word and cleared her throat to try again, "You can't just stick paper towels on it and call it good enough."

Trevor grunted in amusement, his anger vanishing as if it had never been there, and finally released her. He sat back down at the table and began fiddling with his pipe. His eyes ran over her for a long moment and he finally gave a sigh before allowing, "Alright, darlin'. I see your point. I guess a case of blood poisoning wouldn't be too good, would it?"

Livia emphatically agreed so they sent Wade to a pharmacy with a detailed list of what they needed. While they waited Livia cleaned the blood from the floors and bathroom sink; gritting her teeth against the nausea roiling in her guts until there was no trace of red anywhere that she could see. By the time Wade came back with everything the bleeding had mostly stopped while Trevor had sat at the table smoking and drinking one beer after another.

Once she had everything, she got to work cleaning most of the now crusted blood off of his chest and got a better look at the cuts; the nausea worse than ever as she got right up close and personal with his wounds. The skin had parted, showing pink fading to red within while the outer edges had gone lilly white; as if the flesh had already died there. Despite his earlier assurances, she could see for herself that the cuts were deeper than he made them out to be. Maybe not deep enough to damage the muscle, as she had feared before, but deep enough that he'd be left with one hell of a scar once it all healed. He'd have something he'd never be able to erase or cover up; he'd wear her name on his flesh until it rotted away to nothing. And why? Because she couldn't keep her mouth shut. Because she couldn't just leave well enough alone.

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and whispered, "Oh, Trevor, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Trevor blew out a puff of smoke above his head and watched it shift lazily in the air over them. "What for?" he asked, dropping his head again to look down at her as one eyebrow lifted in a look that might've been irritation or amusement. "You weren't holding the knife."

She shook her head as if rejecting this fact and dipped the rag in her hand back into the bowl of warm soapy water balanced on her thighs. "I should've never said those things to you," she told him, sniffling a little and wringing the rag out with both hands. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I made you feel like you had to do this."

Trevor watched her carefully, the weight of his eyes on her like a physical thing as he asked, "Do you believe me, then?"

Slowly, she nodded, "I do."

She could sense him smiling as she opened the tube of antibiotic ointment and smeared a generous amount of it out onto the first and second fingers of her hand but she couldn't bring herself to look at him just yet. Guilt had wrapped around her throat like a noose and she could feel it slowly strangling her with every breath. It didn't matter if she'd been holding the knife or not; it didn't change the way she felt. Even with the hangover, she should've known better. She should've _been_ better than that.

Once his cuts were sufficiently coated with a thick layer of the ointment she went about the simple task of placing gauze over it. After making a thick pad to cover every bit of the wound, she began cutting medical tape to fix it in place. Frowning down at her work, she told him, "I still think you should see a doctor. I don't know what I'm doing here. I've never tried to take care of something like this. I'm probably fucking this all up."

"You're doing fine," he replied, finishing off the rest of his beer and setting the bottle on the table with the rest of them. "It doesn't hurt much at all. Besides..." She could feel him smiling again; teasing her. "I like watching you play nurse. Maybe I'll do the other side, too."

"Don't even joke like that," she told him in a stern voice, frowning harder than ever as she taped the gauze to his chest. "It's really not funny, Trevor."

She finished taping it up and began collecting everything to put it away. As she gathered her legs beneath her to stand, she felt one of his hands encircle her right wrist and tighten down. She raised her head to look at him and there was no humor in his expression now. It was cold, calculating; deadly.

"You know, it just occurred to me," he said, licking his lower lip as his eyes stared at her from beneath his now furrowed brow. "I've told you a hundred times that I love you...and I do. _I do_. But...what about you, Livia?" Her heart began to pound again, pulsing in her eyes as goosebumps raised across her entire body in a cold flash. "Do you...do you love me? Do you feel _anything_ for me?"

She felt his question hit her like a punch in the gut; taking her breath away and leaving her reeling. She hadn't been expecting this; hadn't even thought about what she might say in answer to such a question. Livia had to swallow past some thick blockage in her narrowing throat and blinked at him stupidly several times. She knew she had to be careful here but he would know a lie if she tried one. His dark eyes were like x-rays into her mind and he would read the lie on her like she was an open book. And, even if he didn't become angry with her answer, she didn't want to hurt him or cause him to hurt himself any more. She knew she had to tell him the truth...she just had to choose her words with as much care and consideration as humanly possible. She had to soften the blow in order to save them both.

 _Speak gently to the foaming madman_ , her mind whispered, repeating some old phrase from some old book she'd read years and years ago. _Talk to him in honeyed words lest he rise up and slay you._

"Trevor..." she croaked and then had to clear her throat before she could try again. "I...I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I don't want to see you do things to hurt yourself or...or anyone else." His hand tightened on her wrist but it still wasn't painful; just a reminder that she couldn't get out of answering him. "I said before that you don't know what love is but maybe...maybe I was wrong. Maybe it's me who doesn't know...maybe I've never really known." Looking into the dark abyss of his dilated eyes she told him the truth, her breath shuddering and making the words a husky whisper that he had to strain forward to hear, "But I do care about what happens to you. I...I care about you. Maybe that's all I'm capable of right now."

Trevor suddenly jerked her forward, throwing her off balance so that she fell forward onto his lap and Livia cried out in fear; dropping everything in her arms onto the floor below them with a loud clatter. She didn't know what his intentions were until his hands gripped the back of her head and he smashed his lips into hers. A low rumble of desire from him and then his tongue plunged into her open mouth as he began to kiss her; desperate with hunger, with need.

She had fallen on him in a way where her legs landed on the outside of his, straddling him, and now she braced herself on his broad shoulders; having to struggle for a long moment before she could turn her head away. "Trevor!" she gasped, her eyes going wide as she looked down at his madly heaving chest. "Your cuts!"

Blood was slowly seeping out from under the bandage and snaking its way down over his tattooed stomach; leaving a thin trail between 'FUCK' and 'COPS'. But Trevor only smiled, his eyes dancing with that same exuberant lunacy she'd seen before yet amplified by a thousand as his cheeks flushed with emotion.

"I don't fucking care," he told her, his voice thick and shaking. "I really dont."

Then he was forcing her head back down to his and she began to kiss him back, feeling that heat build between her legs again. She could feel the hard poke of his erection against the softness of her mons veneris and she tried to lift herself away from it; afraid of hurting him somehow. Trevor didn't share her concern, however, and one of his hands gripped her right buttock to press her down on him even harder.

She could barely breathe and lightheadedness started to take over. She felt his hands tearing at the waistband of her leggings and she tore her head away from his again, gasping for air before whispering, "W-wait, Trevor. Wade could come in here and catch us. Don't you think we should -"

Trevor gave a high-pitched giggle and said, "Don't worry about Wade. He likes to watch."

" _What_?"

Trevor laughed again, harder this time, and finally succeeded in ripping the thin cotton/spandex blend of her cheap leggings; tearing them from her like a rabid animal to get at the warm flesh beneath. "I'm kidding," he told her, throwing the remains of her ruined clothing on the floor beneath them. "If he comes in here I'll kick his scrawny ass for being creepy."

Livia didn't have a chance to respond because now his hands were ripping at the flimsy material of her panties and soon she was naked from the waist down. He began to kiss her again, his right hand coming up to squeeze at her left breast as his other hand worked at the buckle of his pants; fumbling like an inexperienced teenager as his excitement mounted to an unbearable level.

Even with his stumbling fingers, he soon freed his throbbing length and urgently guided her heat down onto it with a low growl of animalistic gratification. She let out her own much softer cry of pleasure and felt herself grow rigid as he filled her; gripping his shoulders until her knuckles turned white.

It was incredibly awkward in the little blue canvas camp chair but somehow they managed, her legs spread wide and yet trapped by the cold metal bars as he thrusted into her again and again. She felt him take her right nipple into his mouth and begin to suck and she dropped her head and bit her lip against a cry of shuddering euphoria; trying her best to lower her hips so that he could go even deeper. She shivered with delight as he went on and on, switching back and forth between her stiffening nipples until she was moaning helplessly. All thought slid away from her like a snake shedding its skin and now her nerve endings were doing all the thinking for her; knowing nothing in the world beyond their combined need.

She had no idea how much time passed before Trevor surprised her by standing suddenly; wrapping his arms around her tight and giving a growl of frustration as his cock slipped out of her. He spun around quick and lowered her down to place her back flat on the table, drawing her legs up until an ankle rested on each of his sweaty shoulders. Several beer bottles fell off and shattered on the floor but neither of them seemed to be aware of it, still consumed by the feel of each other while the rest of the world faded, unimportant, in the background. Then he jerked his pants down to his knees and she watched his eyes dance as he licked his lips in anticipation; that line of blood growing thinner even as the bandage grew darker.

She was just beginning to come to her senses a little but that was only until she felt his fingers slip into her wetness and fill her up again. He spent a moment gently exploring her inside before he gave a growl and darted his head down to lick at the exposed, glistening nub between her legs. Livia gasped in surprised pleasure, biting one side of her hand to keep from crying out too loudly as her head rolled back and forth on the hard surface of the table. He was making lewd slurping and smacking noises, grunting and humming contentedly as he continued, and she did everything in her power not to scream at the electric shocks of wanting it sent through her entire body. Trevor may have been joking about Wade seeing them but she didn't want to take the chance that he would come and interrupt this. This strangely beautiful act felt almost holy and she wanted no distractions; fearing any disturbance might bring about a premature end.

After a long while that felt like only moments, Trevor drew his head away from her and looked up at her face between her heaving breasts; smiling. "You taste so sweet," he told her in a thick whisper, his lips shiny with saliva and her own moisture. "Mmmm, you have no idea how I love the taste of my sweet little Livia. So much better than anything else."

She moaned softly with desire as he dipped his head down and used his expert tongue on her most sensitive place once more. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to orgasm and she took her hand out of her mouth and brought both of them down to scratch at the worn surface of the table; leaving long white marks from the force of her fingernails pressing in. It was almost too much to bear.

"Please, Trevor," she pleaded, having no idea what she was asking for. Only knowing that she wanted more, needed more than mere words could express to him. " _Please_."

She might not have known exactly what she wanted at the time but Trevor certainly seemed to; taking his head away seconds before he positioned himself to shove his blood-red, swollen appendage into her again. She let out a choked cry that sounded like a sob as he gripped her thighs and pulled her down until all of her lower half hung over the table. She would've gone ass over teakettle had he not been there to support her but she trusted him completely in this moment, knowing he would not let her fall; gripping his hands in hers. She laced her fingers through his and held on tightly, arching her hips as her legs shook from the effort. Willing him to not hold back now, to not go easy on her anymore, she pulled him forward with each thrust; desperately wanting, needing, and encouraging him without ever opening her mouth.

He seemed to understand perfectly and now he was pulling her toward him each time he thrusted forward. The impact was brutal, jarring, and she bit her lips desperately, feeling a slight twinge of pain as he went in farther and farther; hitting her cervix now. He fucked her in a hard, irregular rhythm but it all felt so wonderful. Her hips were straining down and forward as the tidal wave of desire coursing through her body made her almost totally oblivious to any more discomfort she otherwise might have felt. She felt herself quickly building toward release and she could hear nothing beyond the blood rushing in her head and the harsh breathing ripping in and out of both of them. All else was only make-believe to her; just a dream she'd forget upon waking.

Soon she was crying out, digging her fingernails into the thin skin stretched between his knuckles, and rolling her head back and forth once again; sending another beer bottle to the floor with a loud crash that neither of them heard. Ecstacy filled her with white-hot light and she hooked her legs around him as if to hold him still as he grunted and panted above her. Then he was suddenly soaring up to reach his own peak only seconds after she began to come down herself. He groaned breathlessly and began moving faster and harder than ever as the table rocked beneath them.

Trevor said her name one last time, his voice thick and yet weak, oddly sounding as if he were trying not to cry, and then she felt him shudder just before he exploded inside her. He pulled her against his hips harder than ever, driving forward until the pain began to overtake her pleasure; leaving her gasping more and more for breath as she squeezed her eyes shut against it. Trevor gave a guttural moan and then collapsed on top of her, his chest still heaving as blood continued to roll down from beneath the no longer clean white bandage.

Livia felt his mouth kissing at her collar bone as the table creaked warningly beneath their combined weight. She was coming back to herself little by little, shaking and covered in their mingled sweat; her shirt rucked up so high that it was around her throat and almost choking her. She ignored that, however, and kissed the healing wound on his forehead that had been left the last time he'd hurt himself. Remembering how shocked and frightened she'd been, remembering how he'd rammed his head into that freezer door over and over and how even then she hadn't wanted him to hurt himself.

Not knowing she was speaking aloud, she kissed the tiny scab again and whispered, "Do not go gentle into that good night."

Trevor looked up at her and smiled, lifting himself so that they were eye to eye as sweat beaded down his skin and left him feeling nearly cold to her touch. "What's that?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow as he struggled to catch his breath. "What did you say?"

"Hmmmm?" she returned. Then she retraced the last few moments that had just passed and shook her head as a smile briefly lifted the corners of her mouth, "Oh...nothing. Just some old poetry that randomly popped into my head for some reason. Nevermind."

Trevor chuckled and shook his head, giving a groan as he propped himself up once again and then pulled himself away from her. She heard his boots crunch glass beneath his feet as he reached down to pull his pants up again and as she lay there trying to catch her own breath she thought again of that poem she'd always loved so well.

 _Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

She supposed those words she'd always found so beautiful, so inspiring, fit Trevor just as well as they'd ever fit her struggle or anyone else's for that matter. Maybe he was sick and damaged but...so was she. Who was she to judge another? To feel holier-than-thou? Trevor might be volatile and prone to irrational, angry outbursts but some part of him was still undoubtedly human; some part of him hurt just as deeply and truly as anyone else did. Perhaps, in a way, even more so than anyone else did. As rough and frightening as he may be, when he was hurt he bled just the same as any other human being.

As he lifted her from the table and took her to the bathroom to get cleaned up, she lay her head on his shoulder and vowed to herself that she would never speak so carelessly to him ever again. She would never give him cause to hurt himself like that. Not if she could help it.


	29. Chapter 29

After cleaning up themselves and the broken beer bottles on the dining room floor, Trevor surprised her by suggesting that they go out to dinner. Livia agreed and asked where they should go. Trevor shrugged, gave a smile and said, "Oh, I'm sure we'll find a place."

So he left some money with Wade in case he wanted to order himself a pizza or something and then they hopped into the Bobcat. Livia didn't particularly care what they got to eat, she was just happy to be getting out and doing everyday human things again. After the last few days a little dose of normalcy seemed like just the thing she needed to help soothe her frayed nerves. She could only hope that there was such a thing as a 'normal' night out with Trevor as her escort.

After driving around for a little while, Livia held up the joint she'd quickly rolled while Trevor had been getting dressed, and asked, "Mind if I toke up before we eat?"

Trevor frowned some but only gave a shrug; saying nothing. 

So she lit the fatter end with one of his spare lighters that she'd picked up earlier and took a big hit; holding it in until she began to cough a little. After taking another hit and blowing it out as well, she cautiously held it out to him and offered, "You want a hit?"

He glanced over at her and the corners of his mouth turned down in distaste for a moment before turning his attention back to the road ahead of them. "Nah," he said, licking his lips and baring his teeth in an unhappy grin. "No, thanks. I haven't smoked that shit in a while. It interferes with the speed."

"Suit yourself," Livia said, giving a shrug of her own. She wished he would take a hit or two, thinking maybe it'd mellow his crazy ass out some. But she didn't say that, of course, only smoked and watched the scenery pass by. Despite Trevor's reaction, she continued smoking and enjoyed the buzz she got from the weed; silently thanking Franklin again for his generosity. She was content in her own little world where nothing really bothered her...for about ten minutes, anyway.

During this time Trevor turned on the radio but apparently none of the music playing was satisfying for him and he turned it off again with a curse. Then he hit a curb and cursed again, his hands gripping the Bobcat's steering wheel far too tightly. Livia easily sensed his growing irritation and she put the joint out half smoked; tucking it into the pocket of her jeans alongside Trevor's lighter. She didn't know why her smoking upset him and she was afraid to ask, not wanting to provoke him in any way. All she wanted was one night of peace. One night where she could pretend things weren't as fucked up as they actually were.

But Trevor had no need for peace even at the best of times and he had no problem breaking the tense silence between them. Stopping at a red light, he looked over at her again and said, "I don't get it."

"What don't you get?"

"It's just...why weed?" he asked, making a face that might've been funny to her under other circumstances. He held up one hand in a 'what gives' gesture and said, "It's too weak, darlin'. It's a fucking kiddie drug. You wanna get high? You should try some crystal." He gave an aggressive laugh and said, "Now _that's_ a real drug."

Livia shook her head and chewed on her lower lip, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible, "I..I just wanted to relax a little, you know? I don't need to do anything that'll give me even more anxiety than I already have."

Trevor barked harsh laughter at this and said, "Don't knock it til you've tried it, sugarpie. I'll get you cranked up with me soon enough, just you wait and see. Then we can share everything together."

Livia shook her head again, crossing her arms as if she felt a sudden chill, "No, no, no. I don't think so, Trevor. I know you seem to...to like it but, I'm telling you, it's just not for me."

Surprisingly he didn't feel the need to comment anymore on her drug of choice, only grumbled to himself and let it drop. When the light turned green he urged the Bobcat forward and soon they were pulling up to a Chinese Restaurant called 'Dim Sum Palace'. He parked the Bobcat between a beaten up, mustard yellow Declasse Rhapsody and a much better maintained Jester Classic that was painted midnight black and shone like a newly polished mirror.

Trevor took her arm and led her up to the doors leading in, humming a little as if he didn't have a care in the world. Which, she supposed, he really didn't. He seemed as though he'd already forgotten their disagreement in the car and Livia was thankful for that at least.

Seconds later they were stepping through the doors of the pogoda-style building and into the good smells of dumplings and rice and pan-fried vegetables simmering in tasty sauces Livia could never quite recreate in her own kitchen no matter how hard she tried. Moments after they stepped up to the hostess' area, a woman came forward from one side to ask them how many. They told her and she smiled and nodded, bowing almost imperceptibly before she led them to an available booth. She took their drink orders and handed them menus, saying that the waitress would be with them shortly.

Minutes later Livia looked up and saw Trevor frowning down at his menu, "What's wrong?"

His dark eyes flicked upward and she saw one eyebrow lift in irritation. "I don't know what half of this shit is," he answered, speaking a little too loudly and causing a few heads to turn their way. "What the fuck is a shit-ache mushroom?" Squinting harder than ever at the little words printed on the colorful menu before him, he asked, "And who on God's green earth would want something called 'Duck Blood Soup'?"

Livia noticed a few more people looking their way and they were not friendly eyes staring back at her. She hurriedly looked away as she felt hot blood crash into her cheeks. She cleared her throat as if to dispell the bad vibe around her and, speaking low so that no one could hear her other than Trevor, said, "It's _shitake_ and it's just a different kind of mushroom. It's actually pretty tasty. Maybe you could, uh, skip the soup and try something that you know you'd like?" She glanced down at her own menu and nodded to herself, pointing with one finger as she suggested, "What about some noodles or maybe...some fried rice? Or, hey look, they have Mongolian Beef. How about that?"

Trevor grunted something noncommittal in reply and continued frowning down at his menu; turning it a little to one side as if a different angle would help him understand it better. The waitress came with their drinks and Livia thanked her with a smile, hoping like hell that none of the waitstaff had noticed Trevor's behavior. They weren't in the fanciest of places but this wasn't a family buffet affair either and certain standards of etiquette were expected to be upheld. Also, it's never a good idea to piss off the people who handle your food behind closed doors. 

Thankfully the waitress didn't seem to notice him much, only asked if they needed more time to look the menus over and then disappeared again when Livia nodded. After some debate she ended up helping Trevor pick out something she thought he'd like, shrimp lo mein, and got General Tso's Chicken for herself as well as an order of Crab Rangoon that she hoped she could split with him. When Trevor suddenly stood and announced that he had to take a piss, once again speaking just a little too loud for the quiet dining area around them, she felt another blush creep across her face as even more disapproving stares turned their way.

Once he was gone she noticed a table only feet from theirs that held another couple, a blonde man and woman that reminded her of a junior version of Barbie and Ken from the news, and the woman in particular had a nasty look on her face; scrunching it up in a way that no amount of makeup or lip filler could make attractive. Livia gave her an apologetic smile and the tanned blonde only rolled her eyes and made a dismissive _ugh_ sound. She then turned to her equally tanned boyfriend and said in the most disdainful tone possible, "I swear, it's like some people have absolutely no class at all."

Livia watched her companion nod and then they were both snickering and occasionally shooting little glances Livia's way. She felt her face grow warm again and looked down at her lap, feeling an absurd mixture of guilt and embarrassment. Normally she wouldn't give a shit what Skipper or her boy toy thought but for some reason she could feel tears sting her eyes and she blinked them back rapidly; gritting her teeth against them. She would pretend that she couldn't hear or see them; that they didn't even exist. Hopefully they weren't so completely boring that they'd forget about the other people around them and go back to paying attention to each other. 

Trevor came back after a few minutes and took a loud sip of his drink, making Livia internally cringe as she saw from the corner of her eye when the judgmental couple looked their way again. "This isn't a bad place," he said, setting his drink back on the table with a thud. Some spilled over onto his hand and he wiped it absently on the front of his faded Pop's Pills t-shirt; completely ignoring the cloth napkin at his elbow. "The bathroom was clean, anyway. Smelled like lavender or something. Nice. Usually public bathrooms smell like the ass end of a mule with digestive problems." 

Livia heard Skipper make another loud noise of disgust but she ignored her, nodding and saying to Trevor in a calm voice, "This _is_ a nice place, right? Not bad for something that was spur of the moment."

Trevor agreed with an easy smile and soon their food came, ending any need for further discussion. He ended up liking his food quite a bit more than either of them had hoped for and Livia somehow managed to ignore the snooty couple and all of their sideways glances and the snarky comments they uttered to one another. She made a conscious effort to give Trevor her attention instead, laughing and enjoying his company because his mood had shifted for the better for once. He soaked her attention up like a sponge, joking around and laughing loudly enough to drown out everything else around them. He didn't seem to notice the couple and all in all they had a pretty nice time. Livia's cheeks actually hurt a little from all the smiling she'd been doing.

After tipping the waitress they paid the bill and walked out, heading toward the Bobcat. She held his hand in hers, listening to him tell her about some guy he used to know named Brad who'd been like a brother to him, and smiling a small smile even then. She was floating on a high that had nothing to do with the weed she'd smoked an hour ago and she was so content with the pleasant evening they'd just had that she failed to notice the blonde couple walking toward their car only a dozen paces behind them. In a stroke of bad luck, they happened to be driving the Jester parked next to the driver side and as Trevor opened his door he also wasn't paying attention to much around him. He happened to bump the polished side of the classic sports car just hard enough to leave a small scuff there.

"Hey, asshole!" came an angry man's voice in the direction they'd just come from. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

Trevor's words died on his lips and his head snapped up like a bird of prey sensing an easy meal somewhere nearby. Livia felt her stomach suddenly shrivel into a tiny ball of worry; the nice meal she'd eaten now sitting inside of her as heavily as if she'd been crazy enough to dine upon rocks. Trevor shut his door again and the grin that spread across his face was familiar; that darkly happy look that spelled big trouble for whoever it was directed at. Watching the blonde guy approaching with his expensive slacks and light sweater combo, she knew that Trevor could already see where this was going....and welcomed it. 

"You talking to me?" he asked, lifting a hand toward himself.

The tanned guy got closer, his handsome face pinched into a look of indignant reproach, "Yeah, I'm fucking talking to you, numb nuts! You just banged the door of your shit-heap into my car. You want to watch what you're doing next time? That thing costs more money than people like you earn in a lifetime."

Livia's eyes switched back and forth between the blonde man and Trevor, chewing her lip so hard that she could taste blood. Trevor took a step forward and she tried to stop him, tried to diffuse the situation somehow before things got ugly.

"Let's just go, Trevor," she said, coming halfway around the front end of the Bobcat as if she would try to physically stop him if her words failed to do the trick. "Forget about this fucking douchebag. Let's go home."

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" The blonde woman suddenly snapped at her, putting one hand on her non-existent hip and cocking her head in a way that seemed to dare a response. "Nobody's talking to _you_."

Livia acted as though she didn't hear this; didn't even look away from Trevor's angry smile. Her heart was beating too hard, too fast, as she sensed the impending violence thickening the air around her like a rapidly building thunderstorm. If she couldn't talk Trevor down this entitled prick with a two hundred dollar haircut was about to land himself in the ER. Well, if he was lucky, anyway.

"Come on," she tried again, almost desperate now. "He's not worth the time or the effort. Let's just go home, okay?"

But, unsurprisingly, Trevor was already well beyond the point of no return and it was as if she had never spoken at all. Trevor quickly closed the distance between him and the blonde man, his hands already clenched into huge, hard-knuckled fists. Then, like the fucking icing on the cake, the idiot opened his mouth one last time and raised his arms on either side of him in a ridiculous 'come get me' way.

"You want to make something out of this, motherfucker?" He taunted, getting louder as if this could somehow back Trevor off. "Come on, then! I'm gonna mop the floor with your ugly ass fa-"

Trevor's fist shot out of the gloom in a blur; smashing into the blonde man's mouth and cutting his words off as cleanly as a meat cleaver through bone. Blood burst from the blonde man's split lips and he gave an awful cry of surprise and pain, stumbling backward as his hands reached up for his mouth. Trevor gave a snarl and came at him again, his other fist slamming into the younger man's toned midsection and driving all of the breath out of him in a loud 'oof'.

The blonde woman's hands fluttered around her head in total panic for a moment, her little feet dancing in their gold stilletos and flapping her oversized lips as if she were trying to scream but couldn't find the air to do so; huge tears cutting clean tracks through the makeup on her face. After a few endless seconds of this awkward display, she finally found her voice and began crying her boyfriend's name in a loud falsetto that set Livia's teeth on edge. "Allen! Oh my _God_ , Allen!" she bawled, dancing in place like a defective wind up toy. "Oh no! Oh, God, _Allen_!"

Trevor had a hold of Oh-God-Allen's sweater now and was pulling it over the back of his head; beating his ass hockey-style while laughing and grunting with the effort every time he landed another blow. Livia only stood there, her fingers in her mouth and her eyes huge as she watched Trevor punch Allen again and again. The blonde woman finally stopped calling his name, only keening wordlessly, and reached for the shiny gold clasp of her coral-pink purse with shaking hands. After a few moments of fruitless scrabbling, her long nails finally managed to undo the clasp and she began rummaging around inside, sobbing and still dancing her little I-have-to-pee dance.

Livia thought she was reaching for her phone to call for help and she started forward, meaning to slap it out of the woman's hands if she had to. But it wasn't a phone she pulled out, it was a little black cylinder that Livia didn't recognize. She watched, confused, as she fumbled with it a moment before stepping to one side so that she was facing Trevor.

He was oblivious to what the blonde woman was doing, totally absorbed in the beating he was delivering to Allen's formerly smug face, and so when she pointed the odd little cylinder directly at his face and pressed down on the trigger, he was completely caught off guard. A sudden burst of pepper spray shot directly into his open eyes and he released Allen immediately, turning away with a roar of pain as he brought his hands up in an effort to shield himself.

When Livia heard him cry out she felt a sudden wave of cold rush over her; as if the temperature around them had suddenly decided to drop by forty degrees or so. Some primal instinct she didn't know she possessed took over and all the muscles of her body tightened down at once, coiling like a snake ready to strike. As her quick, smooth strides ate up the distance between her and the blonde woman she realized that what she was feeling now was not fear or horror anymore. No, it was anger. Furious, all-consuming anger that made her hands clench into fists as adrenaline flooded her veins and got her ready to do a little ass-kicking of her own.

The blonde woman was still pepper spraying Trevor even though all she was getting was the back of his head and she didn't see Livia coming any more than Trevor had seen her. Livia gripped the skinny wrist of the hand holding the pepper spray and twisted it viciously to the left, making the woman shriek in agony as something in there gave way with a dull snap and she dropped the little canister on the pavement between her jittering feet.

Livia was dimly aware of her upper lip lifting into a snarl and then her other hand came up to land a hard shot right in one of the blonde woman's staring baby blue eyes. She began wailing on her as hard as she could, holding her wrist to keep her in place as her fist smashed into her bleeding, crying face again and again. She was in a complete rage now, losing all control as she screamed and cursed her, "You fucking bitch! You stupid fucking bitch!!"

She didn't know how long she beat on the woman but soon she was on the ground, punching her over and over again as Trevor continued to roar in pain somewhere behind her. Finally she began to realize exactly what it was she was doing, that red veil of fury lifting as quickly as it had settled over her, and she released the woman with a cry of horror and revulsion. She climbed off of her and turned to look for Trevor, her hands shaking and covered in blood. 

She found him leaning against the driver's side door of the Bobcat and trying to wipe his face with his shirt. Allen was broken and sobbing in front of the car he'd cared so much about and she went past him without a glance. As she reached Trevor she heard a siren begin to wail somewhere not far away and grabbed his shoulders. "We gotta go!" she told him. "Come on, damn it! Give me the keys!"

Trevor dug in his pockets for a moment and then handed them over, blinking his bloodshot eyes and squinting up at her as thick runners of clear snot hung from each nostril of his beet-red nose. She let him climb in first and then scoot over to the passenger side. She got in after him and started the truck, hearing the blonde couple crying and calling for help as she shifted into drive and drove past them; narrowly avoiding running over one of Skipper's outstretched legs.

Livia got them out of the parking lot and back on the road, keeping her foot pressed down hard on the gas as she swerved around traffic and somehow managed not to hit anyone. That coldness had lifted from her completely and now she was shaking so hard with fright that her teeth clicked together; her face running with sweat as her eyes bulged from their sockets. 

"Fucking bitch maced me," Trevor barked, coughing a little as he swiped at his face with his balled up shirt again. "God fucking damn it, I can hardly breathe."

"You'll be okay," she told him. "We're getting out of here. Just sit tight."

Trevor coughed again and she drove into the open mouth of an alley, trying to avoid the sirens that seemed to be coming closer and closer. She was still shaking, a hair's breadth from freaking out, but she gritted her teeth against the panic and focused on nothing but what was ahead of her. She could worry about everything else later. The only thing that mattered now was getting both of them as far away from that parking lot as possible. 

Taking a sudden turn from one alley and into another, she thought, _So much for a peaceful, quiet night, I guess._ If she hadn't been so terrified of going to jail she might have even laughed.


	30. Chapter 30

Livia drove until she could no longer hear sirens anywhere around them and pulled into the first 24/7 she saw. Trevor sat in the passenger seat sniffling and groaning, still swiping at his face with his shirt now and then. He looked no better than he had fifteen minutes ago; red-faced, lips slightly swollen, nose running, eyes bloodshot, his breathing harsh and ragged. Now that the threat of being arrested seemed to be gone, she was worried about him and only wanted to do something to make him feel better.

"We need to flush your eyes out," she told him, laying one trembling hand on his shoulder. "You have to give me some money so I can go buy a couple of gallons of water for you."

Trevor nodded and dug into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and then the first bill his hand came upon. He handed a fifty over with a growl of pain and irritation. "Arrrgh, get a couple of gallons of milk too," he said, coughing a little and then hacking up a large amount of phlegm that he spit out of the open window next to him. "And hurry it up, huh? This shit burns like hell."

Livia took the offered money, "Okay. I'll be right back."

Then she opened the driver's side door and hopped out, slamming it shut behind her without slowing down. Running up to the doors she realized that her hands were still covered with Skipper's blood and she made an attempt to wipe them off on her navy blue t-shirt. Unfortunately, the blood had mostly dried during their escape and only a little flaked off. Most of it was still there; all too noticeable against the paleness of her skin. Livia cursed internally, added soap to her mental shopping list and reached for the pneumatic door leading in. 

Stepping inside as the bell chimed overhead, she looked over and made eye contact with the clerk behind the counter. "I need milk," she told him, fighting to keep her voice calm. "Where can I find it?"

The old Indian man pointed to the coolers at the back of the store, "Over there."

Livia nodded in thanks and rushed over to the coolers. She spotted the gallons of milk and grabbed two with one hand; pinching them together by their handles and having a bit of difficulty in doing so because even now her hands were still shaking. She went across the aisles until she found the one containing gallons of water and grabbed one of those as well. Now her hands were quite full but she searched until she found bars of soap on the next aisle over; sitting there next to all the little tubes of toothpaste and travel size deodorants. She set down the gallon of water and grabbed a blue bar with a picture of ocean waves on the label that were probably supposed to evoke feelings of relaxation and memories of warm summer days. But Livia didn't give a shit if it had pictures of gold-plated assholes on it, she only cared whether or not it would get the job done. She tucked it under her chin and pinned it there before picking up the water again and hurrying up to the counter to set her purchases down.

"Is everything okay?" the old fellow asked, scanning the first gallon of milk as one of his bushy white eyebrows lifted in a curious look.

"Yeah, sure," she said, her voice only quavering a little as she stuffed her hands in her pockets in an attempt to conceal the red stains marring them.

The little lips that were mostly concealed by an impressive silvery white beard suddenly twisted into a look of disbelief but he didn't question her any further on it. He finished ringing up her purchases before asking, "Is there anything else that you need?"

She started to say 'no' but then thought better of it, "Do you have any towels for sale? Or maybe, uh, some napkins?"

He shook his head. "We have paper towels in the bathroom," he replied, placing her soap in a plastic sack. "But those aren't for sale."

"Would it, uh, would it be okay if I took a few?" she asked, hoping but not really expecting a positive response. "I mean, not the whole roll or anything."

The old man lifted his shoulders and closed his eyes in a way that told her he couldn't care less, "They are there for everyone."

Livia smiled a little and said, "Thank you." Then she rushed over to the restroom and grabbed a big handful of towels from the dispenser on the wall next to the sinks.

Coming back out she saw the clerk watching her and came forward so quickly that she almost tripped over the little rubber mat in front of the fountain drink machine. She stuffed the towels into the sack with the soap and asked, "How much do I owe you?"

The old man told her and she handed the fifty over, seeing how his sharp eyes lingered on the rust colored splotches on her hand. He put the money in the drawer and then took out her change. Ripping the receipt from the register, he handed it over and said, "There you are."

Livia shoved it all back into her pocket except for a ten and handed it back to the clerk. His eyebrows lifted in a look of surprise and mild confusion, not lifting a hand toward the money.

"For the paper towels," she explained.

Still he did not reach for it so she dropped it on the counter and grabbed her things, saying another quick 'thanks' before rushing for the door leading out. Running back to the Bobcat she could feel the clerk watching her, probably still wearing that puzzled look on his face, but it didn't matter because she was leaving and he wasn't going to be her problem for much longer. Trevor was the real concern; still sitting on the passenger side of the truck wiping at his face and muttering curses as his eyes stung and his nose dripped almost constantly.

She would have preferred to rinse his eyes out right away but she didn't want the old man with the too-sharp eyes to see them; it felt too risky. So she got back in the truck, put the bags on the seat between them, and said, "Hang tight, Trevor."

He only grunted miserably and spit again. She backed out of the parking spot and drove them away from the clerk and his curious gaze. She came to another parking lot, this one behind a big chain supermarket, and parked next to a Landstalker that was almost as in bad of shape as hers had been. Here at the back she thought they were less likely to be observed or disturbed. Who knew how many cops were out right now looking for them after what had happened in the Chinese restaurant parking lot? She felt like there were eyes everywhere now, watching them, moving in closer...just waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

She tried to push these paranoid thoughts out of her head and helped Trevor out of the truck. She opened one jug of milk, handing it over to him and taking the shirt out of his hands. "Pour this over your eyes," she instructed. "Keep them open as much as you can."

Trevor snatched the jug out of her hand and growled, "I know that. You think this is the first time I've had this happen to me?"

Now that he brought it up, no, she really didn't. He'd probably dealt with this on more than one occasion...he'd known about using milk to dilute the pepper spray, after all. So she let Trevor do his thing and took the jug of water for herself. She opened the little blue bar of soap and poured some of the water onto her bloody, shaking hands. She started to wash up, scrubbing away all traces of Skipper and her dumbshit boyfriend; listening to Trevor grumble, swear and occasionally spit milk out of his mouth.

She somehow managed to clean the blood from her hands without dropping the water and replaced the cap, setting it aside in case Trevor needed that too. She watched him as he stood there in the flickering orange light of the street lamp above them and poured cold milk over his face; blinking and shaking his head like a dog as he gargled and spit again and again. He went through the first gallon and held his hand out for the second, twitching his fingers in a 'hurry the fuck up' gesture.

Livia handed it over and he went through the next gallon as well; leaving a pretty decent sized puddle of dirty white between his worn boots. He shook off the last of the milk with a growl and splashed her with a hundred tiny droplets that she barely felt. He looked very odd then; dripping with white, growling and seeming to glow from the light of the lamp overhead. If anyone happened upon them now they'd probably cross the entire parking lot and call a cab just to avoid the weirdo with an apparent milk fetish. Maybe they'd even call the police to report them. God, they couldn't get the fuck out of this parking lot and home fast enough. She wouldn't feel right again until there were solid walls between her and the rest of the world. 

"Now the water," Trevor ordered, holding out his dripping hand toward her.

She jumped a bit as she snapped out of her own little world and then rushed to obey. She passed it over and he poured the water over him as well; rinsing away the milk until he was mostly clean again. Then he was looking over at her with real awareness in his eyes and she tried to smile but then she saw the blood seeping through the bandage on his chest and it quickly changed into a frown.

"You're bleeding again," she said, pointing at the red seeping through the sodden white fabric.

Trevor looked down at the bandage and gave a humorless grunt, "Fuck. I forgot all about that."

"Why?" she blurted suddenly, feeling close to tears as the blood grew darker, as she remembered the blood on her own hands only moments ago. "Why did you do it? Couldn't you just let it go? Why the hell did you have to fight him, Trevor?"

He was poking at the gauze over his wound, lifting it a little so he could see underneath. "Oh I have a feeling that the prancing little cocksucker had that coming for a good long while," he said, frowning down at his cuts and still not meeting her gaze. "Maybe next time he'll think twice about approaching a stranger and trying to start a fight. Maybe he realizes now all the gym muscles in the world won't protect you from random crazy people you meet on the street."

"Look, Trevor, I know you said you don't want to see a doctor but...it's still bleeding," she said, wringing her hands together now. "We really should have someone who knows what they're doing take a look at it. If it's bleeding again that could mean -"

" _No_."

"But _Trevor_ -"

His head suddenly snapped back up, his dark eyes narrowing on hers, and the rest of what she was going to say was lost. She'd let her concern for him make her forget that she was barking up the wrong tree about him seeing a doctor. Now she took a step backward and there was an uneasy feeling in her gut that had nothing to do with the blood seeping out from his chest.

"God _damn_ it, Livia!" he half-shouted, half-growled at her, his eyes flashing with that unpredictable fury once more. Only it was worse now, so much worse, because it was directed at her. "Did you not hear me the first fucking time?! No doctors, okay?! _No fucking doctors_!!!"

"I'm sorry, Trevor," she said, taking another quick step backward; her mouth now as dry as the Sahara even as her brow prickled with sudden sweat. "Don't be mad, okay? I... I'm just worried about you, that's all."

He gave a huge sigh and suddenly the anger in his eyes was gone before it could even surface all the way. "I know...and you don't have to be sorry, darlin'," he said, his scowl deeper than ever now. "I didn't mean to shout. You don't have to worry about me though, okay? I'm a tough motherfucker to kill. Hell, I barely even feel it anymore."

"Really?" Livia ventured hopefully, blinking back the tears that had gathered in her eyes when he'd yelled at her. "You're not just saying that?"

"Really," he agreed with a nod. "I don't feel shit."

"And your eyes?" she asked, wiping one hand under her nose to catch the stray tear that had gathered on her upper lip. "What about them? They still look pretty red."

Trevor dropped the empty jug by his feet with the other ones and ran his hands over his face and hair in an effort to wipe off the remaining moisture. "They feel a lot better now," he replied, coughing once more before blowing both of his nostrils out one at a time. "At least I can see your face, anyway."

"I'm sorry, Trevor," she said, holding the wad of paper towels out to him. "If I had known she was going to spray you I would've stopped her before she could. I - I didn't even know what it was though, I swear. She had this little black thing in her hand and until she - "

Trevor shushed her, firmly but not unkindly, and stepped forward to take the wad of crumpled brown paper out of her hands. "Darlin', darlin'...shhh. It's okay," he said, wiping quickly at his face and torso in a cursory way before spitting one last time and locking his eyes on hers again. "I'm not mad at you, I promise." He seemed to think a moment and then his lips cracked into that wicked smile. He made a fist, brought it up to eye level and tightened his fingers down until the paper towels were crushed in his fist; tendons and veins popping out all along his tattooed arm. "Besides, you kicked her ass pretty good, huh? Made her pay for every drop of that shit she hit me with."

She swallowed thickly and nodded; anxiously running one hand through her already messed up, sweaty hair. "Yeah, I...I guess I did," she said, nodding as her eyebrows came together in bewilderment. "But it was so...so _weird_. I...you know, I'm not even really sure what happened. I heard you yell and then I just, well, I guess I _lost_ it." She looked into his eyes as if searching for understanding; as if he could help her make sense of it all. "For a moment there it didn't even feel like it was really me at all. It was like I was standing there and watching it happen but I had no control over what was happening...like it wasn't me because none of it felt real. Like I was watching a movie or having a dream or something." 

He laughed and his bloodshot eyes danced as he lowered his fist again and said, "Oh, I know how that is, sweetheart. I know all too well, believe me."

She looked down at her feet almost shyly and chewed her lower lip for a moment, thinking. "So...you're really not mad at me?" she asked, meeting his eyes with her own once more and totally unable to keep the naked hope out of the tremulous whisper that escaped from her lips.

He slowly shook his head and came closer, his skin glistening with water droplets that glowed orange from the light above them. She felt his arms go around her and she brought her own up around him; wrapping them around his ribcage and hugging him back as she lay her head on his shoulder and let her eyes slip closed.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he asked, his voice lower, thicker, than before as he pressed his face into her hair and nuzzled against the sensitive skin of her throat. "You didn't do anything wrong. You did all that you could, didn't you? Shit, Livia, you _helped_ me. As far as I'm concerned you did everything just right." She felt his lips kiss gently along the line of her jaw and the sensation sent a shiver down her back as he murmured, "And I won't forget that."

Livia hugged him back and there was only the tiniest whisper in the back of her mind that tried, however briefly, to contradict him but she slammed the lid on it as quickly as possible; telling herself that she should feel nothing other than relief. That she should just be grateful that they were both all right and enjoy this rare moment at peace.

Then she heard a noise from somewhere behind them and opened her eyes. She felt Trevor stiffen in her arms for a moment and then he released her to step back. She turned and when she saw the light bars on the roof of the black and white car her heart dropped down into her stomach. Then her eyes took in more details and she relaxed a little; the car was the wrong model, the decal on the passenger side door said 'Security' rather than LSPD and the fat guy behind the wheel was wearing a blue uniform and not a black one. Surely they could handle one security guard.

The passenger side window rolled down and the fat guy leaned over. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice carried over to them on a wave of exhaust fumes as he sat there idling under the light. "What are you two doing back here so late?"

"None of your fucking business!" Trevor returned.

The security guard recoiled and even in the weird orange glow Livia could see the color rising in his full cheeks. "You shouldn't be back here," he told them, his voice sounding unsure and a little frightened. "Store's closed. You folks need to clear on out of here."

"What're you gonna do, pork chop?" Trevor laughed, his tone hard and yet playful at the same time; mocking him. "You gonna shine your flashlight at us? You gonna haul that lardass of yours outta that seat and rassle us to the ground? Huh? You wanna make this interesting, fat boy?"

Livia saw the security guard's mouth turn down into a frown and suddenly she felt bad for him. He was just doing his job, after all. She elbowed Trevor gently aside and said, "We were actually leaving anyway. Sorry about that. You have a nice night now." Then she grabbed Trevor's hand in hers and hissed, "Come on."

The security guard sat there in his pretend police car and watched them get back into the Bobcat. This time Trevor got behind the wheel and gave him a salute before laughing his head off and starting the truck again. Livia said nothing, only looked down at her hands laced together in her lap and hoped they'd make it back home before Trevor decided he wanted to beat the shit out of someone else tonight. The last thing she wanted was to go through that again and she was almost certain that the fat guy making fifteen bucks an hour didn't deserve it...no matter how Trevor might try to justify it later.


	31. Chapter 31

Livia was more than a little apprehensive about this. Here they were at ten in the morning, prowling around town picking up random furniture from the curbsides in and around the more affluent neighborhoods of Los Santos. Even though this was their second trip, no one had stopped them to say anything yet...but she'd seen several people watching them. It must frighten them, she supposed, to see the Bobcat pull up and then Trevor and Wade hop out to grab that discarded dresser or the shoe rack they'd put outside the previous afternoon. Trevor and Wade certainly didn't look as though they belonged here amongst the tv producers and lawyers and plastic surgeons. They looked like the guys who offered to wash your car windows for a buck at the red light. She'd bet a hefty sum that most of these people would be double checking their door and window locks before turning in that night.

The kind of people who lived in these mini-mansions were the same kind of people who called the cops on their neighbor's gardener because he looked 'suspicious'. They might consider themselves enlightened liberals or whatever but Livia had dealt with enough of them throughout her time in LS to know that at their core they were incredibly shallow and very, very paranoid. If that wasn't the case, then why would all their homes be equipped with high-tech burglary systems and motion-sensitive cameras? Why did they live behind such big fences and hire private security to patrol their picturesque neighborhoods at night while they slept? They would do anything to keep the undesirables, the dregs of society, out and away from their perfectly maintained and magazine-ready homes. It didn't matter that all of this had once been a lower-income neighborhood; that most of these turds had only been here maybe ten years at most since the gentrification had started. This was theirs now and if you clearly weren't one of them or the hired help, you weren't welcome...and especially not after dark. The fact that they had been doing this since first light was probably the only reason they hadn't been fucked with yet.

While it was amusing to think about these bourgeois assholes shitting their pants when they saw Trevor and Wade running up to snatch their garbage, it also made her glad that the truck bed was almost full. Even if there hadn't been the possibility of someone calling the law on them, they'd been at this all morning and she was hot, tired and hungry. They needed to get the hell out of here before their luck finally ran out. She didn't know if you could actually get in trouble for taking someone else's trash but she really didn't want to find out, either. Even the thought of being questioned by one of those black-clad thugs with badges sent her stomach into nervous somersaults.

 _With my luck I'd end up going to jail on some bullshit charge and then end up inadvertently confessing to mass murder somehow_ , she thought. _They'd make sure I'd never see the light of day again_. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see Trevor's sweaty face and the grimace of determination there as he hefted his end of the big mahogany monstrosity into the back of the truck. _And I'm sure Trevor would be given the death penalty. A jury would take one look at him and that would be the end of Trevor Philips. They'd make damn sure he'd end up sucking gas at Bolingbroke at some point or another...and probably never lose a minute of sleep over it_.

She watched, frowning, as Trevor and Wade dumped the fashionably distressed dresser into the bed of the truck next to the couch and loveseat that looked almost brand new. Then they were running around to hop back into the cab of the Bobcat, both of them panting and nearly trembling with exhaustion. She'd offered to help but Trevor wouldn't hear of it. She suspected that he'd only brought her along so that she could give her opinion on what to take or what to leave behind and her frown actually lifted a little at the thought. Sometimes she was just as surprised by these little outward acts of kindness as she was by his capability for cruelty.

Trevor was pouring sweat and he smelled like a dumpster in high summer but the grin on his face was genuine as he turned to her and tipped her a wink. "I think we did good today, darlin'," he said, buckling up before shifting into drive and pulling away from the curb. "What do you think?"

She nodded and showed him a small smile of her own. "Yeah, we got a surprising amount of stuff," she replied, her face pinching into a look of bewilderment. "I mean, these people must redecorate their houses almost constantly. None of it even really looks old, for Christ's sake! How crazy do you have to be to throw away perfectly good furniture?"

Trevor gave a chuckle and palmed some of the sweat from his brow, "You said it, sugarplum. But we're lucky they're so wasteful, eh? We made off like fucking bandits today.'

"It was kinda fun, too," Wade piped up from his place on the other side of Livia. "Like we was garbage men or something...working a real job."

"Fuck that," Trevor grunted, scratching at his crotch as his face twisted into a look of supreme distaste. "Fuck a 'real job'. Working nine to five and dealing with the same boring fucking people day in and day fucking out until you're too old and used up to do it anymore?" He shook his head and gave a high-pitched little giggle, "I think I'd rather fuck a cactus."

Livia shrugged and said, "I don't know...it's not all bad. I _hated_ my boss but I didn't mind the work itself so much. It could be a pain in the ass at times but mostly it was okay. It was..." She gestured vaguely before finding the right word, " _Normal_. Getting up every morning and having my coffee, doing my hair and makeup. I kind of miss the routine, you know?"

Trevor shook his head again and let out a dismissive laugh, "Sounds fucking boring to me. Give me a decent score and a few pigs to shoot at and you won't find me complaining."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia was finishing making their lunch when Trevor came to stand silently at her side in the kitchen. She tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl to get off the excess mayonnaise and didn't look up even though she could feel him staring at her from only two feet away.

Opening the bread and grabbing a couple of slices out, she asked, "What's up?"

"I've been thinking..."

She waited, using the spoon to put a hefty scoop of tuna salad on the slice of bread in her hand, but he didn't choose to elaborate any further. She set the bread down on the paper plate and carefully lay another slice on top; smashing it down with the palm of her hand until she had a sandwich. She picked up the plate and turned to him, holding it out to him until he took it.

Finally meeting his gaze with her own, she asked, "Are you gonna tell me what you were thinking about or is this some kind of guessing game?"

Trevor never took his eyes off of hers as he used his free hand to lift the sandwich and take a big bite. Then, with his mouth completely full, he said, "Yoo nee oo earn ow oo oot."

Livia raised an eyebrow at him in amusement and her mouth lifted at one corner in the beginnings of a smile, "Has anyone ever told you that you have horrible manners? Try talking when you don't have food in your mouth, please."

Trevor swallowed his food and this time she could understand him, "I said you need to learn how to shoot."

Her smile fell away before it could creep across her lips any further. "Why?" she asked, her stomach slowly tightening up inside of her as his dark eyes continued to stare into hers. "What do I need to do that for?"

He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. After swallowing again, he said, "Well...everybody should learn how to use a gun at some point in their lives, don't you think? If you ask me they should make it an educational requirement in high school. They could call it 'How to Cap a Motherfucker 101'."

Livia turned away and pulled more bread out of the sack on the counter. "I don't think that's a good idea, Trevor," she said, smearing more tuna on a slice of bread so she wouldn't have to look at him anymore. "Guns scare the shit out of me."

She sensed him moving closer and felt the tension working up into her shoulders. "That's all the more reason to learn," he said, sounding as if he were struggling to keep the sudden irritation out of his voice. "They're not scary if you know what you're doing. If something bad were to happen to me..." He shook his head and his voice came out gruffer, more stern, "You gotta know how to defend yourself, darlin'. I can teach you."

Livia shook her head, "No way. Not happening."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to," she said, still not looking over at him.

She heard a roaring growl of fury emit from him and she flinched a little when he threw his sandwich back on the counter. It skidded on the countertop and hit the wall hard enough to stick in a big beige splat just under the cabinet. It clung there for a moment before dropping down onto the plate again in a messy heap; looking more like vomit than food now.

"Well, _forgive me_ , but I don't give a shit what you want this time, Livia," he said, the irritation gone as fuming anger came to take its place. He was only a step or two away from her now and it took everything in her not to cower or show fear in any way. "I said we're doing this so we're fucking doing this. _End of discussion_."

Livia slapped the bread down on top of the sandwich she'd made for Wade and shook her head as she warned, "You're going to regret this."

She heard his breath hitch in his chest and she could almost feel that deadly fury emanating from him like slowly spreading ripples in a pond. She knew that he was only hanging on by a thread as his voice dropped to a low, trembling whisper and he asked, "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Livia whirled back around to face him, still clutching the goop-covered wooden spoon in one shaking hand as if it were the last shred of her own patience. "You heard me, goddamn it!" she nearly screamed at him; fear and anger at war on her face until her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I don't know the first thing about guns, Trevor! I can't even cross a fucking room without stubbing my toe and you want to put a gun in my hand? I - I'll probably end up shooting myself in the foot or...or...God forbid... accidentally shoot you or Wade. I'm the last person in the fucking world who should ever touch one of those things!"

She saw his face change, the scowl softening, and that terrifying rage seemed to drain out of Trevor right before her eyes. She felt his hand gently reach out to take her free one; using the warmth of his flesh to soften her fist until he could link their fingers together.

"That's not going to happen," he told her, squeezing her fingers almost hard enough to hurt. "You're not half as dumb as you think you are. You'll be careful. I'll make sure of it." His face changed again, his eyebrows drawing together into a look of concern, and his voice was something approaching gentle now as he explained, "After last night I realized that anything could happen. If that girl had been carrying a gun and not pepper spray..." He shook his head and his eyes were locked on hers, using every ounce of his willpower to persuade her into understanding his way of thinking. "Look, the fact is that I'm human, Livia. I can get hurt or killed just as easily as anyone else and then I won't be able to protect you. I just want to know that you'll be able to defend yourself if that time comes. It'll be fine, okay? I'll show you that guns ain't nothing to be scared of...not when you're the one pulling the trigger, anyway."

Livia felt some of her own tension melt away as she looked up into the dark depths of his eyes and she squeezed his hand back almost as tightly as he squeezed hers. She still didn't think that this was a great idea but...he did have a point. Also, he'd made his mind up. He wasn't going to just let her say no. Trevor had _never_ let her say no to him. As always, he would get his way whether she liked it or not.

"Fine," she said, letting out a deep breath that she hadn't been aware she was holding. "If that's what you want, I... I'll do it. Just don't expect me to help you hold up any gas stations or liquor stores any time soon because that's where I draw the line."

Trevor smiled a little and the last of that uneasy feeling in her gut slipped away, "I wouldn't dream of it, darlin'."

Wade chose that moment to pop his head around the corner and peek in at them, asking, "Everything alright?" Then his blue eyes caught sight of the lunch she'd been making. "Oooh, is that tuna?" She watched him scrape some of the mess off of the wall with one dirty finger and then stick it in his mouth just before smiling that big, doofy smile of his. "I love tuna fish!"

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Go on," Trevor said, impatiently miming the action with his hands. "Eject the clip like I showed you."

Livia struggled with the little button and then the clip popped out, making her jump in surprise. It landed in the dirt between her feet and she bent to retrieve it, wiping it off on the front of her t-shirt. She could hear crickets in the weeds around them, giving off that endless, high-pitched _reeeeeeeeeeee_ noise that always made her feel sleepy. They were back in the Grand Senora Desert, somewhere near a town called Harmony, and had taken a dirt road behind something Trevor called pump jacks (the things that looked like big hammers going up and down) until they were pretty far away from civilization. He'd set up a few empty cans and beer bottles on some fence posts and she'd been out there since about four that afternoon, steadily plugging away at them.

Her aim wasn't as bad as either of them had been expecting but it would've been a hell of a lot better if she didn't flinch every time the gun went off and she knew it. She also knew Trevor was trying to break her of that fear, to show her it was no different than using any other kind of tool, but she couldn't stop her hands from shaking every time she knew the gun was loaded and ready to rock. The sun was starting to go down now and Trevor had been getting more and more frustrated with her as the hours dragged on. She was also getting more and more frustrated with herself every time she missed and it didn't seem to matter how hard she tried to listen to Trevor's instructions or how many times she watched him demonstrate. Even after hours of this she could only hit her mark maybe three times out of ten.

"Have you been holding your breath like I showed you?" he asked, sounding just as hot and tired as she was as he watched her fumble with the bullets in her pocket until she had two loaded in the clip again. "You gotta hold it, let it out slowly and _then_ you squeeze the trigger. Slow and steady, right?"

"Yes, Trevor," she said, using one forearm to wipe the dripping sweat from her brow. Some fell into her eye anyway, stinging and burning and pissing her off all the more. "I've been doing it just like you said and I still can't hit shit. I told you, _I can't do this_!"

"You _can_!" he snapped back at her, his own temper flaring up at her tone. "If you'd just do it like I showed you then you could hit your target every fucking time!"

Her hands were shaking so hard that she dropped the 9mm round she'd been trying to load into the clip. She felt it hit the tip of her shoe and her eye almost missed it as it bounced away into the gathering shadows. "God _damn_ it!" she hissed, trailing after the bullet until she found it lying against a rock. "I fucking hate this shit."

"I don't care! You're gonna do it again and again until you get it right!" Trevor barked at her, his voice cutting through the sound of the crickets like a hot knife through butter. "We've got three more boxes of bullets and a spotlight so we can be out here all fucking night if we have to!"

Livia snatched up the bullet and attempted to wipe it off on the front of her shirt. "This is a pointless waste of time," she muttered miserably to herself. "I'm not going to get any better at this."

She heard his boots crunch on the sandy pebbles beneath them as he stepped closer to her, "What's that?!"

She looked up at him, her eyes slitted against the last few bright rays of the declining sun, and spat back, "I'm not going to get any better with you yelling at me!"

Trevor's face cramped into a look of rage as he snatched the clip out of her hands and shoved his free hand into the front pocket of her jeans. He wriggled his fingers around for a moment until he had a handful of bullets and then he looked away from her as he loaded them into the clip one by one; his hand as steady as a stone.

"I'm going to teach you how to shoot this motherfucking gun if it's the last thing I ever do," he said, speaking through clenched teeth as he loaded the last bullet in and shoved the clip back into her hands. "Now you face those fucking cans and blow those little bastards away! Stop being weak and show me that you can fucking _do it_!"

Livia slammed the clip back into the gun and stalked angrily over to the same position she'd been standing in for hours. Her arms ached, her back ached, and her head ached from the constant beat of the sun and from Trevor shouting at her. She popped her earplugs back in, raised the weapon, and flicked off the safety.

As she sucked in a huge breath, she thought, _I told him. I fucking told him. He just won't listen to me. Just like every other sorry ass man in my sorry ass life. They never listen to a fucking thing I have to say._

She closed her left eye and lined up the sights until it rested between the W and the A on the Pißwasser can five feet in front of her. She willfully thought of her big brother Derek for the first time in years; of his eyes the same color as hers and his hair that was the same bright, coppery red as their mother's had been. He'd been the first male in her life who hadn't listened to her. She didn't think he'd ever heard a single word out of her mouth in all the time that she'd known him. Never had he paused to listen even when she was begging him for mercy. Begging him to stop, please stop, _please, for the love of God, just stop fucking hitting me_!

The last ray of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon and darkness descended around them. At the same moment she felt that cold feeling overtake her just like it had the night before; raising goosebumps on every bit of her exposed flesh. Now she could almost see Derek's face there on the can; smiling that nasty smile he'd always worn whenever he'd been ready to use her as a punching bag. She wasn't aware of the growing stillness in her hands, her arms held out in front of her and bent at the elbows just like Trevor had shown her, and she let out her breath slowly; exhaling ever so softly even as her heart pounded and adrenaline surged into her veins. The fear was gone and now all she was aware of feeling was hatred, pure pitch-black hatred, for the brother who'd shared her blood and had spilled it time and again throughout their childhood.

_Fuck you, Derek, you sadistic son of a bitch._

Her finger tightened on the trigger and this time she didn't flinch when it went off. There was a muffled pop as the gun jumped in her hand and she saw the black hole appear just above the W on the can as if by magic a split second before it flew backwards off of the fencepost.

Trevor was just as deathly silent as the crickets had fallen, the blunt ends of his index fingers jammed into his ears as he watched off to one side and behind her. She sighted down the barrel of his 9mm again and aimed at the beer bottle on the next fencepost; still, calm and totally focused.

Livia thought of Ray now. Ray Talbot. The greasy, fat fuck who had molested her for two years of her life until she was thirteen and so scared of grown men that she couldn't even talk to the male teachers at school anymore. How she'd almost screamed in fear every time one had looked her way. She remembered very clearly that no matter how many times she'd showered she'd never really felt clean again.

_Fuck you, Ray, you fucking sick piece of shit._

The next muffled pop shattered the beer bottle into a thousand tiny shards left scattered around the base of the fencepost in a glittering ring. The next can was her father, who had beat her so many times with a belt. She remembered how one night he'd beaten her for some minor infraction or another until she had welts all the way from her shoulders down to the back of her knees. And she remembered how they had bled and kept her awake that night, how the welts had burned and how she hadn't been able to keep herself from crying loud enough for her father to hear so he'd come into her room and dragged her out of bed by her hair and beat her again.

_And fuck you too, Dad. If you could even be called that._

This can went over too and the coldness was sinking deeper and deeper into her; relentlessly working its way into her heart until it became a part of her. She wasn't aware of her lips stretching into a smile as the next bottle exploded...and then the next one and the one after that. She just pop, pop, popped until she was out of bullets and nothing else was lined up in front of her.

Livia sighed and slowly lowered the gun, pulling her earplugs out once more. Her chest was heaving and she had sticky, piss-warm sweat creeping down her back but she was smiling so broadly that she could feel her jaw creak from it. It felt good to see those bottles explode and those cans go sailing off into the deepening twilight. It felt good in a way that nothing had felt good for years. Even this coldness felt good to her in a way; as if it were somehow _right_.

"Holy fucking shit," Trevor breathed from somewhere behind her. "I mean _holy fucking shit_! You're a goddamned natural, darlin'!"

He came forward to take the gun from her hand and she turned to face him, her expression still caught in that wide grin as her eyes met his...cold eyes that her smile did not touch. She saw him stop and draw back, the grin on his own lips slowly fading as his eyebrows drew together into a look that she'd rarely seen on his homely face. She stood there staring up at him for a moment, surprised and yet not surprised by the realization that the look on his face was one of worry. But it wasn't worry for her, no, it was worry for himself... _because_ of her.

She almost laughed at the thought that he might be experiencing fear for the first time in God only knew how long. And her? Frightening _Trevor_? She couldn't think of anything more absurd. She might've laughed had she been able to at the time but it would have been a cold, unfeeling laugh; a deadly one that wasn't much different from Trevor's.

Then the coldness lifted just as quickly as it had come and she no longer wanted to laugh as he stepped forward to gently take the gun out of her dangling hand. "Well," he said, blinking rapidly a few times as if to snap himself out of his momentary lapse of reason. "Look at you over here being the next Annie fucking Oakley." He gave a chuckle and clapped her gently on one shoulder, "I _knew_ you could do it, darlin'. Didn't I say you could do it?"

Livia felt her mouth turn up into a much more natural smile but when she spoke her voice sounded rusty; as if she hadn't spoken a word in years. "Yeah, you did," she cleared her throat and this time her voice sounded like her own again. "I guess you knew what I was capable of all along."

Trevor ejected the clip and checked it; looking a bit relieved when he saw that it truly was empty. He looked over at her again and smiled back at her but his eyes searched hers as if he could find where that coldness had gone. He wouldn't though because it seemed to have disappeared completely.

"You did great," he told her, cocking his head to one side in a curious look. "Fan-fucking-tastic, actually. You hit your mark every single time. I really couldn't be any more proud of you, sweetheart."

Livia felt warmth flood her cheeks as she asked, "You still want to use that spotlight? I'd kinda like to try again."

Trevor's laughter echoed throughout the emptiness of the desert around them, temporarily silencing the tireless song of the crickets once more.


	32. Chapter 32

Livia was leaning on her arm against the passenger side window, drifting aimlessly in and out of a semi-conscious doze, when the Bobcat came to a sudden stop. She lifted her head and blinked a few times until her eyes focused, trying to make certain that she really was seeing what she thought she was seeing. She'd expected the now familiar view of their little adobe-style house and was surprised to find Trevor's trailer illuminated in the bright shine of the truck's headlights instead.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, straightening up in her seat. "I thought we were going home."

"Oh, we will," Trevor said, shifting into park and switching off the ignition. He killed the lights and turned to look at her, "There's just a couple of things I want to grab. You can wait here if you want, I won't be long."

"But you said it wasn't safe to come back yet," Livia returned, looking around them as if expecting to see headlights approaching them any second. "What about the bikers?"

"It's been...what? Over a week now? Almost two? Even if they'd had someone staking out my place surely they would've given up by now."

She knew he was saying this in an attempt to reassure her but it didn't work one bit. When he noticed her worried expression hadn't changed, he gave a heavy sigh and unbuckled his seatbelt. Taking the 9mm out of the waistband of his dirty blue jeans, he handed it over, "Here. Now that you know how to use this, you can keep it with you until I get back. Does that make you feel better, honeybun?"

Still frowning, she took the gun, "No. Not really."

Trevor cocked an eyebrow at her and she knew he was teasing her, trying to make light of the situation, as he patted her leg and said, "Awww, come on, don't be such a sourpuss, Livia my dear. If any bikers show up you just pretend they're cans and blow their asses right offa their seats."

But Livia was not amused by this playful banter. Her frown only deepened as her hand tightened on the pistol he'd given her, "Just hurry up, would you? I really think we shouldn't be out here too long."

"Okay, okay," he groaned, giving her leg one last pat. "Don't go getting your panties in a twist over it. I'll be as quick as jackrabbits fuck, I promise." He tried to reassure her again by showing his teeth in a quick grin before pulling on the door handle and hopping out. Then he slammed the door behind him and hurried for the trailer without a backward glance.

She watched Trevor jog up the rickety wooden stairs to the trailer door before he pushed it open and disappeared inside. Looking around again, she only saw one car moving on the street; a rust bucket sedan that wheezed like an old man with emphysema as it limped past. Everything else was dark and quiet in Sandy Shores and even though this should've made her feel better, it didn't. This dreadful quiet was unnerving and she only wanted to get back to Los Santos as soon as they possibly could.

Livia waited there with the gun on her lap, nervously chewing her bottom lip and trying to look in every direction at once. Maybe the bikers weren't out there, this place certainly looked like a ghost town, but then again...maybe they were. There was no way of knowing for sure unless they decided to step out and say howdy.

She heard a noise from inside the trailer, a loud, jarring crash and then the unmistakable shatter of breaking glass. She heard Trevor cry out, "Oh, fuck me!" and her hand was already reaching for the doorhandle.

Livia was shaking now as she ran toward the trailer on wobbly legs, her heart and head pounding once more, and held the gun down low at her side; keeping the barrel pointed far away from herself just like Trevor taught her. She wouldn't be much help to him if she really did end up shooting herself in the foot.

Livia went up the steps, wincing when the wood creaked beneath her weight, and called out to him in a hushed voice that she hoped didn't carry too far, "Trevor?! Are you okay?!" She waited a moment, trying to keep from freaking out completely, and finally hissed, "Answer me, _please_!!"

But he didn't and she felt cold sweat gathering on the nape of her neck. All was quiet around her again and in her mind's eye she could see a man dressed all in black leather with a big handlebar mustache and an even bigger automatic weapon in his hands standing over Trevor's prone body, just waiting for her to appear in the doorway. So, gathering what little was left of her courage, she tiptoed over as silently as possible and reached out with her left hand to grasp the doorknob.

She took a deep breath and turned it savagely; flinging the trailer door open and bringing the pistol up into the ready position as the interior of the tiny, rusted metal deathtrap was revealed to her. Rather than a big ugly biker standing there, however, it was only Trevor and she saw his brown eyes go wide when the barrel of the 9mm swung upward to point directly at his balding head.

He ducked instinctively and dropped the box in his hands, causing another loud clatter that almost made her finger tighten on the trigger. "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_!" he exclaimed, holding up his hands as if in surrender. "Jesus Christ, Livia! What the _fuck_?!"

Livia jerked the barrel of the pistol away from him and quickly slid her finger outside of the trigger guard; shaking harder than before as she realized just how close she'd come to putting a bullet in his head. "Shit!" she cried breathlessly, putting her free hand over her heart as if to calm its frantic pace. "Oh, I - I'm so sorry, Trevor! I heard you yell and you didn't answer me when I called for you and...and..."

Trevor came forward and ripped the gun out of her hand with a snarl. Baring his teeth at her in an angry grin, he said, "For fuck's sake, woman! You could've blown my head off!!"

Livia swallowed past the hurt and stuttered, "I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I - I thought you needed my help."

Trevor stuffed the gun into the back of his pants once more and gave her a sour look, "Well, since you're here I guess you can help me carry some stuff out to the truck." He bent and picked up the box he'd been holding and shoved it into her hands hard enough to force her back a step. "Here. Put this in the truck and come right back."

Livia nodded and hurried out the door again, her cheeks still flaming with embarrassment; telling herself that what she'd done was beyond stupid and reckless. What did she think she was going to do anyway? She was no hero and she definitely wasn't a badass. Even if one of those bikers had ambushed Trevor, she'd probably just do more harm than good in any kind of gunfight or standoff type situation. She could shoot cans, sure, that was easy, but shooting a human being was a horse of an entirely different color. She probably would've just chickened out and ended up getting herself killed even before Trevor did. It'd be like two dead bodies for the price of one.

Mentally kicking herself the whole way, Livia took the box out to the truck like Trevor had asked; placing it in the truck bed against the back of the cab. She swept one hand across her forehead to wipe the sweat away and a sudden breeze lifted the hair from her head. Livia lifted her face into it gratefully and let her eyes slip closed for a moment. Fortunately, the breeze came rolling across the desert so it smelled of sage and that wonderfully sweet, dusty-earthy aroma rather than reeking of stagnant water and rotting garbage. This blessedly fragrant breeze dried the sweat on her face and she filled her lungs with that nighttime desert scent; finally feeling somewhat at peace for the first time since she'd woken up that day.

So of course it was in this brief sigh of reprieve that she felt a hand suddenly clamp over her mouth and then the barrel of an automatic weapon jam up against the sensitive place just below her ribcage.

"Don't move," whispered a man's voice in her ear. "Don't even fucking breathe unless I tell you."

Livia's panic was so huge that for a moment she couldn't have breathed even if she'd wanted to. Her blue eyes went wide and bulged from their sockets; her hands tightening on the side of the truck until two of her fingernails ripped down to the quick. Despite his warning she instinctively tried to turn her head and felt the barrel of the gun press harder against her ribcage, making her whimper in fear and pain.

"Nuh, uh, uh," warned the man holding a gun on her as his dirty hand smashed her lips against her teeth. "Do you wanna die, bitch? I told you, _don't move_."

Livia shuddered against the taller man's body, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as her mind frantically tried to form a coherent thought. Trevor had been wrong about the bikers giving up. They were here after all, they had been lying in wait all this time, and if she made a false move she was going to see what it felt like to have a dozen bullets forced through her torso at point blank range.

"Are you gonna be good for me?" the man behind her asked, jamming that barrel harder and harder against her ribs. "Are you gonna do what I tell you?"

She let out a low terrified moan as he said this; a shiver running down the crooked ladder of her spine as she remembered how Trevor had asked her something similar not so long ago. Now here she was again with another man holding a gun on her and she couldn't beg for mercy anymore than she'd been able to the first time this had happened. She dumbly wondered if her luck would continue to hold out or if she'd really end up dead this time.

She nodded slowly in answer to his question, feeling him shift a little against her so that he could keep pressure on her mouth; jabbing her with the barrel of his gun until she whimpered beneath his hand again.

"Alright," the man whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear. "Now you're gonna walk backward with me. _Slowly_. If you try anything I'm gonna empty this entire fucking clip into your tits. _Comprende_?"

Somewhere in the confused and terrified fog of her brain, she recognized the accent as he spoke this time. He sounded a bit different than the other bikers had, like maybe English wasn't the only language he spoke...or at least not his first one, anyway. She couldn't be sure, though. It was hard to tell when he was whispering like that and, the more time she spent thinking about it, the more she realized that it didn't matter in the least. None of this information would help her if he decided to pull the trigger.

So Livia nodded again and waited until he took the first step before she followed in the same direction. It was awkward walking backward with his arms wrapped around her but she only stumbled a little once and the man behind her held on tight; practically dragging her until she managed to right herself once again.

He quickly took her into the shadows across the street and to the gas station parking lot. Sitting there behind a chest-high brick wall was a black muscle car covered in what looked like a year's worth of dust. Even before he brought her over the passenger door opened and she looked down to see that there was another man there; a Hispanic man in a turquoise and black striped shirt, possibly in his late thirties or early forties, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail and a lot of prison tattoos on his exposed skin.

Suddenly she heard Trevor's shout from across the street cut through the night air, "Hey, Livia! Where the fuck'd you go, darlin'?!"

The man holding the gun on her shoved her into the passenger seat and she felt the guy with the ponytail lay hands on her before she could so much as even think about screaming. Another big hand was covering her mouth and she felt his other one wrap around her bicep, the fingers digging in painfully as he warned in a deadly whisper, "Make a noise and you're dead, _puta_."

" _LIVIA, GODDAMN IT, YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!!!_ "

"Call 'em, motherfucker!" Ponytail hissed at his accomplice. "He's looking for her. He's going to find us!"

Livia looked over to see the man who had ambushed her reach into the pocket of his baggy blue jeans and pull out his phone. He hit a button and put it up to his face while he ducked down in front of the car and held his Micro SMG in his other hand. She heard him say something in Spanish, something that sounded like, "A key! A key!" Then he hung up and put the phone back in his pocket, holding his gun with both hands now.

" _ **Goddamnitcocksuckingmotherfucking SON OF A BITCH!!! Arrrrrrrgghhh!!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUUUUUUUUUCK!!! LIIIVIIIAAAAAA!!!**_ "

She jumped as guiltily at this as if she had hidden herself away on purpose; goosebumps rising all along her skin at the unmistakable sound of his pain. Trevor sounded closer now, very close, and Livia looked over the hood of the muscle car to see the young man with the Micro SMG tense up in anticipation. Trevor was going to be caught completely unaware if she didn't find a way to stop it from happening. She had to find some way to signal him, she had to...to do something, _anything_ , before it was too late.

Livia didn't think, time was too short to think, she acted only on pure animal instinct; letting that lingering residue of inner coldness be her guide now. She suddenly snapped her head up and away from the hand trying to keep her silent; viciously bringing her teeth down onto it like a hungry carnivore claiming much weaker prey. She bit down into the meat of his index finger and palm hard, as hard as she possibly could, until she was grinding her teeth in and he gave a cry of surprised agony. She didn't see the younger man turn to look back at the sudden commotion and she didn't see Trevor step out from behind the wall at almost the exact same instant. Her attention was occupied and her ears filled with the cries of the man she was chewing on; doing her best to actually tear into his flesh with her teeth as her hands came up to wrap around his thrashing arm in an attempt to hold it still.

She heard what sounded like multiple gunshots and then a thud as the younger man went down in front of the car and then there was only the swelling sound of Trevor's roar when he saw what was happening inside. The man still holding her suddenly released her bicep and began punching her in the head; his fist slamming into her skull hard enough to make bright stars flash momentarily across her vision. She took two more brain-rattling blows before she released him with a desperate cry and finally tried to draw away from him. She didn't get far, though. A split second later and she felt his hand tightening in her hair; jerking her head up until it lay back against his muscular shoulder at an uncomfortable angle.

Even with her ears ringing from the punches to her head, Livia heard the passenger side door bang open next to her. Then something cold and wickedly sharp was being pressed into the side of her neck; lying along the madly beating artery there and causing her to go deathly still as a moan of fear escaped her numbed lips.

" _Let. Her. Go_ ," Trevor commanded from mere feet away. His voice was a low, animalistic growl; something promising pain more excruciating than this man could probably imagine.

" _Tranquilo_ ," hissed the man she'd bitten like a dog; turning her just enough so that Trevor was sure to see the knife he held to her throat. " _Tranquilo, cabrón_."

Livia looked over and directly into Trevor's eyes. Her head was reeling, her mind foggier than ever, but she saw that same coldness in their dark brown depths that she'd felt when shooting those cans and bottles only a few hours earlier. Even in the shadows the hate in his eyes glowed like neon lamps; never leaving the eyes of the enemy in front of him.

" _No_ ," he growled, aiming the barrel of some futuristic-looking rifle at the man's head. "You let her go. Let her go right now or you fucking die."

"You shoot me and who knows? Maybe I slip just right and cut her throat, huh?" the man shot back at him, giving a shaking, humorless laugh that did nothing to conceal his obvious fear. "You wanna take that chance, _pendejo_? You wanna watch her die with me?"

Trevor reacted by tightening his hands on the gun and clenching his jaw so tightly that she could see little muscles jumping spastically on both sides now. "Throw the knife away and maybe I'll just knock your teeth out rather than spray the inside of that car with your fucking brains."

Livia sucked in a terrified breath as she felt the edge of the knife move and nick her skin. It wasn't deep enough to sever her artery but just deep enough to start a thin rill of blood rolling down that side of her throat. She began to pray silently inside her head, a repeated plea that this wasn't the end, that Trevor could get them out of this and that she wouldn't have to die here in this shithole town while she still had at least forty or fifty years worth of living to do.

"Not a good time to be making threats," advised the man behind her, shifting a little as if to make sure that Livia was between him and Trevor's rifle. "Not if you care about her, anyway. Put your gun down and I'll let her go. She doesn't have to die, we only want you."

Livia could see the indecision begin to cloud Trevor's eyes and before she knew what she was doing she said, "He - he's stalling, Trevor. That other one you shot already called for help. This asshole's just trying to keep you here until the rest of his friends show up."

She felt the man's hand tighten in her hair and she winced, fighting not to jerk her head away so that she wouldn't end up cutting her own throat. " _Cállate, pendeja_!" snapped the nameless goon, sounding as if he too were now speaking through clenched teeth. "Speak again and I'll cut your fucking tongue out!"

"You harm another hair on her head and I swear to God I'm going to gut you like a fucking fish!" Trevor barked at him, quickly reminding him of his presence. "Let her go now while you still have a chance!"

Ponytail turned his attention back to Trevor and his hand twisted in her hair; winding it tighter and tighter around his fist until she was biting her lip against the need to scream in pain. "You're not going to do a fucking thing...not when I've got a knife to this bitch's throat. When the rest of my crew gets here you're going to wish you'd never been fucking born, _carajo_ ," he laughed in a big phony way as if to mask the fact that his voice was trembling with sudden emotion as he spoke around the back of her head. "I bet you thought you were pretty funny, huh? Bombing our drops...taking out our guys. One of those boys you killed was only twenty, you know that?" Livia could feel the hand holding the knife against her trembling and slowly she realized that the man with the ponytail and the thick accent was shaking from rage and not fear. He began to speak so quickly now that he was almost babbling, his words coming out faster and faster until they were tripping over one another in their haste to leave his mouth; pushed on by a nearly uncontrolled rush of grief and rage. "His name was Jose Ramos and he was my little brother, you tailer trash piece of shit. I helped raise that boy from the time he was in fucking diapers and when we put him in the ground I swore I would kill the person who took him away from us. Yeah, I've been waiting for my chance at you a long time, you cocksucker. But that's okay, you know? In just a few minutes the rest of the Aztecas will be here and we're gonna make what you did to Jo-Jo look like a pleasant fucking dream. I swear to you that you're gonna rue the day your whore of a mother squatted and shit you out."

Livia looked over at Trevor again and something in his dark eyes made her blood go cold. She heard him give a one last growl, something that sounded like, "Fuck you and your dipshit brother" and then she felt the wind of a bullet pass by her face just before it punched through the man's wrist. He began to scream as hot blood sprayed her right cheek and the knife fell away from his now useless fingers. He released her hair to grab at his injured wrist and the ringing in her ears was so painful that it took her a moment to gather her scrambled thoughts enough to realize what had happened. When she realized that the screaming man no longer had a hold on her, however, she quickly pulled away from his thrashing body; leaping out of the car and barely feeling it as Trevor's hand urged her behind him.

The man was now cursing Trevor in Spanish, calling him a son of a bitch and a piece of shit and a bastard, but Livia could still barely hear him. It was as if she were under water or her ears stuffed with thick wads of cotton. That high-pitched ringing left by the bullet that had been fired only feet from her head was so loud that it almost completely drowned out everything else.

She was still in shock as she watched Trevor grab hold of the bleeding, screaming man and drag him out of the car with one powerful hand. He threw him to the pavement beside the car and she saw his lips moving but she still couldn't make out most of what he was saying...but the man with the ponytail could. She saw him looking up at Trevor with hate-filled eyes and shouting something back at him right before he pursed his lips and spit into Trevor's face.

Livia saw Trevor reach up with one hand to wipe the spittle off, his lips moving soundlessly again, and then she turned away to stick her fingers in her ears and wiggle them around a little. She turned her head from one side to the other; stretching her mouth open again and again, trying to stop that horrible ringing in the same way she'd try to get trapped water out of her ear canals. It took her a few tries but eventually her ears popped and sound returned to the world all at once. She heard a laugh and a satisfied grunt from Trevor and then something that sounded strangely... _wet_. Livia turned her attention back to the men, meaning to grab Trevor and tell him it was time to go until she saw what he was doing and it stopped her in her tracks.

Trevor was straddling the man's body and he wore thick, shining sleeves of blood on both of his arms as well as a goatee of red that dripped down from his smiling/snarling mouth. He looked as though he'd been injured somehow or...or maybe blood had splashed up onto his face? Below him the man lay with his stomach opened from above his belt buckle all the way up to the bottom of his ribcage; flayed open and being dissected like some gruesome assignment in a high school science class. She could see the wet shine of his exposed organs, his stomach, his liver, and the pale ropes of his intestines, and it seemed as though Trevor was doing his best to remove everything. He was hacking and slicing away at the vulnerable tissue, laughing and growling occasionally as the man beneath him stared up at the sky with wide, unseeing eyes. She saw that the man had died in the throes of unbelievable suffering; the brown marbles of his eyes bulging, his mouth stretched wide in a silent scream, his hands, even the injured one, curled up into hooked claws and his khaki pants stained on both sides from where he'd soiled himself at the end. The bright, coppery smell of blood was so thick on the air that she could almost taste it; sending her stomach rolling helplessly to the point that she knew she would vomit again soon.

Her terror and disgust was so large that for a second all she could do was stand there, gape-mouthed and sick; pale enough that she could've almost been mistaken for a corpse herself. Then she heard the wail of emergency sirens approaching their position and that snapped her right out it. Finally finding her voice again, she cried out, "Oh my God, Trevor!! What are you doing?! _Stop_!!"

He didn't answer her, still cutting and slicing and hacking; acting as though he didn't even hear her. He was too focused on removing a section of the dead man's large intestine that he held in one hand and she rushed forward to grab his shoulder and give him a shake as if to snap him out of it. When he jerked his head around to meet her eyes with his own and raised the knife, the very same knife that the man had held to her throat only minutes before, she thought for a moment that Trevor meant to turn on her next. That she might be the next one laying beneath him with her innards exposed to the dry desert air.

"We h-have to go," she said, shaking so hard that she could barely make herself understood. "W-we have to leave now, T-Trevor. _P-please_ , they're c-coming for us."

Something in his black eyes cleared and he nodded, dropping the knife and picking up his automatic rifle once more as he stood to face her. "Yeah, yeah. You're right..." He gave a sigh and licked at his bloody lips with the pointed tip of his tongue, "I guess my work is done here, eh?" He looked down at his handiwork one last time and smiled that hungry shark smile, showing the thick blood that coated his teeth. And were those red bits caught in between his teeth what she thought it was? No, _no_...it couldn't be.

"Pathetic fuck," Trevor chuckled humorlessly. "I told him what would happen, didn't I?"

But she was the one who didn't answer this time, couldn't answer, and he made a disgusting noise as he hawked up phlegm from somewhere deep inside his chest. He rolled it around in his mouth for a moment and then spat it out onto the corpse. She watched, still in shock, as the thick gob of yellow and white streaked with pink landed somewhere on all that red mess and then her stomach began churning worse than ever.

_There's blood in his mouth because he was..._

Livia slammed the lid shut on that voice in her head. No, that couldn't be true. Trevor was a lot of things but he wouldn't...he _wouldn't do that_. Still, she got no relief from this forced denial. Her heart knew the truth - it always knew the truth - and she had to cover her mouth with one hand to keep from vomiting right there. He had been eating him...or at the very least taken a bite or two of something he'd pulled out of him. For whatever reason, Trevor had been driven to cannibalism as well as murder and she couldn't understand why; couldn't even begin to comprehend the depth of madness that could push him to do such a thing.

Without saying another word, Trevor turned away to head back to the trailer; running at full sprint as the sirens grew louder. Livia hesitated only briefly before she followed, stepping over the crumpled body of the first man who'd grabbed her and trying to ignore her nausea for the time being. She didn't want to be here when the cops showed up; didn't want to stick around and explain the bodies. Especially not the eviscerated, half-chewed Mexican gang member who'd spent almost two weeks in a cramped car waiting for his chance at vengeance.

So Trevor and Livia got into the Bobcat and sped off just seconds before the first emergency vehicle, a dust-covered ambulance, rounded the street corner behind them. The tires screeched on pavement as it came to sudden stop by the gas station, showing no interest in their getaway as the sound of even more sirens followed closely in its wake. The blue and red flashing lights were only a fading glimmer as Trevor gripped the steering wheel with dripping red hands and headed back toward the concrete sprawl of Los Santos once more. The cop cars that showed up stayed by the gas station, probably setting up some kind of perimeter, and Livia knew then that they would be okay. Somehow they'd escaped by the skin of their teeth yet again and all they had to do now was make it back home before something else happened.

Hugging herself and shivering like someone with hypothermia, her scattered thoughts once again began to resemble an incoherent prayer, _Eating him. He was fucking eating him. No...oh God, no more tonight, okay? Please, I can't handle anymore. I can't, I_ can't _. I'll go crazy if I have to deal with any more._

Her run of thoughts went on like this for quite some time as Trevor silently drove them farther and farther from Sandy Shores; her mind offering no solace, no respite from what she'd witnessed. The only thing left to her was more useless prayer; the same reheated bullshit aimed at a god she doubted ever existed in the first place.


	33. Chapter 33

"You're being awfully quiet over there," Trevor grumbled at her. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd gotten away from Sandy Shores and he'd stopped to check and make sure she was alright. "So...you wanna tell me what's wrong? 'Cause I'm getting kind of tired of the silent treatment, darlin'."

His tone was mild, gentle even, but she gave an involuntary jump at the sound of his voice anyway; snapped back to reality and out of her fragile feeling of not-quite-thereness. She raised her head, her heart stuttering erratically in her chest for a moment, and directed her terrified gaze out of the windshield in front of her. She saw that they were on some dirt road in the middle of nowhere, still far from Los Santos, with mountains on the left and a fifty foot sheer drop down into a rocky creek on the right. As he coasted the Bobcat onto the shoulder and came to a stop, she shivered helplessly; feeling cold waves of dread cascading down her spine.

"Talk to me," Trevor said, turning to face her and give her his full attention. "You're acting all..." He gave a funny kind of halfway-frustrated growl before he finished the thought, "You're being _weird_ again."

Livia shook her head and shrugged as if she didn't have a clue what he was talking about, trying not to let the truth show through under his scrutinizing gaze. He was watching her very closely now and she was scared, scared to death, but she didn't want him to know it. Didn't want him to know that she'd seen what she thought she'd seen. It seemed wiser to try and act as though it had never happened; to pretend that nothing whatsoever had changed.

She couldn't imagine broaching the subject with him. What would he say? What _could_ he say that would make any of it seem alright? More importantly...what might he _do_? She decided she didn't want to know; didn't want to find out how deep his madness really went. It might be safer just to sweep it under the rug and try to somehow forget that it had happened at all.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" she asked, her own voice surprisingly neutral even though her hands were trembling; something she hoped the shadows around them might conceal. "I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Really," she agreed, trying a smile that fell apart halfway through. "I'm just..." Sudden inspiration struck her, spurred on by nothing but the simple truth. "I'm tired and I want to go home, that's all. A few hours of sleep and I'll feel as right as rain again."

She could feel his eyes on her for a long time but she couldn't make herself look over at him; couldn't bear to meet his gaze with her own. She knew that as soon as she did this little facade of calmness would fall apart. If only he gave her a little time maybe she could convince herself that it wasn't true, that maybe her eyes had been playing tricks on her...

"Livia," he said, his voice still giving her no hint of his current temperament. "For fuck's sake just tell me what's really the matter."

She folded her hands in her lap to quell their nearly constant tremors and replied, "I told you. I'm _tired_."

"That's not it," he said and now the first threads of irritation were weaving their way into his tone; making her shake all the harder. "I know when you're blowing smoke up my ass, darlin'. You're fucking horrible at lying so just quit pussyfooting around and tell me what's got you all worked up."

She tried a laugh but it came out sounding as false as half of the breasts in Los Santos. "This...this is getting silly now," she said, her heart thundering in her chest and her voice now carrying the slightest tremor of its own. "Would you just drop it? Please? It's been a really long night."

"If nothing's wrong then why won't you look at me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent her into another helpless shiver. "Why are you sitting so far away that you've jammed yourself up against the door like that?"

Livia's fingers were digging relentlessly into themselves and she felt as though her insides were about to implode from the strain of her barely-held-in-check terror but she forced herself to lift her head and look over at Trevor again. Some of the blood from his mouth had been wiped away but a lot of it was still there, stuck in the stubble around his lips. And if he smiled at her would she still see the red in his teeth, the little bits of...something?

"Oh yeah," he said, giving an angry smirk and pointing at her with one finger. " _Something_ put a big ass bee in your bonnet...it's practically written all over your face. We're not going anywhere until you tell me so just go ahead and spit it out already or, I swear to God, we'll sit here in this fucking truck until the wheels fall off."

Livia knew he wasn't joking around, he really would keep her here until she told him the truth. So she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to still the shakes in her hands and prepare herself for whatever answer he might give her. She had to keep herself from overreacting no matter what, had to be understanding and completely non judgemental; to show as little emotion as possible. Anything less might flick his crazy switch and end up putting her in harm's way.

"When you were..." She swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly dry from fear, and tried again, "When you...cut into that man, did you...d-did you bite him?" She looked up to see Trevor's unkempt eyebrows lift in surprise but the rest of his face was an expressionless mask. When he did not answer right away it made her heart begin to pound harder, her stomach twist tighter, which caused her voice to be weaker and quaver longer as she spoke, "I just...I saw all that blood on your mouth and in your...in your teeth. Did you..." Now her voice was barely audible as she finished, "Did you _eat_ some of him?"

Trevor lifted a hand to his mouth and dragged it across the bloody stubble around his lips. He looked away from her wide, frightened gaze, his eyebrows now drawn together in a severe look, and she watched his eyes dart around as if he were trying hard to remember something he'd already forgotten. He looked as though he were mentally retracing the last hour of so of his life...like a man who had misplaced his keys or his wallet.

After a long moment in which Livia felt her gorge rise and subside several times, he finally said, "I don't know..." His eyes settled on hers again and in them there was only an empty blackness that made her want to scream. "Maybe."

Livia pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm the thundering beat of her heart, and bit her lips for a moment against the sob that wanted to escape her. Tears spilled over her lower lids as she whispered, "What do you mean _'maybe'_?"

Trevor shrugged and his eyes glowed red in the light from the dashboard, "I mean, maybe I did and...maybe I didn't. I don't remember."

Livia only looked at him, her eyes steadily leaking big, silent tears, and when she said nothing his face creased into a furious scowl. "Why are you looking at me like that? Are you scared of me now?" he asked, his hands curled up into fists as his lips spread into a chilling smile that held no humor in it.

The truth was she'd never really stopped being scared of him but she wasn't anywhere near thick-headed enough to admit it and risk pissing him off even more. "N-no, Trevor," she said, trying not to drop her gaze. "It's just..."

Cocking one eyebrow at her as if he were amused, he barked, "What? Are you gonna tell me it's wrong? That I shouldn't do that? That it's _bad_? It's _sick_?" When she only bit her bottom lip and made no attempt to answer, Trevor gave a laugh that sounded broken and full of angry derision, " _What_? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?!" He leaned closer suddenly, making her gasp, and now the smile was gone; rage contorting his features even worse than before. His fury made him look ugly and cold...like someone she really didn't know all. She couldn't keep herself from jumping again as he shouted at her, " _Come on, fucking say something_!!!" 

Livia tried to swallow past her fear, her hands shaking like someone who was old and infirm as she struggled to wipe her tears away, "Please, don't yell at me. D-don't be mad at me, Trevor, okay? I - I'm sorry, I just don't understand...I don't understand _why_ you would do that." She forced herself to take in another shaking breath and meet his eyes with her own again; to ask the real question that had been plaguing her. "Why would you eat another person, Trevor?"

His nostrils flared and she could see his bloody hands open and close into fists several times as he stared back at her. "Why?" he repeated, his mouth lifting in that angry smile again. " _Why_?" His gaze slid away from hers and then back again and now the fury in his eyes seemed less intense; much further from his boiling point. He'd been thrown off by her question and, as she waited for him to answer her, she wondered if he'd ever questioned why he did it himself. If he even thought about it at all...or if perhaps it was something he also tried to forget.

"I...I don't know _why_ ," Trevor replied, sounding as if the concept was brand new to him. His dark eyes settling on hers again; his voice a harshly grating grumble that couldn't quite hide the uncertainty lurking underneath, "I just...I wanted to...I...no. No, I _had_ to." He fell silent and she waited again, trying to keep her own expression blank as she watched his face shift rapidly between conflicting emotions. Anger, confusion, fear, and sorrow all made a brief appearance before fury won out again and his jaw clenched down tight as he spoke through gritted teeth, "Did you already forget that he had a fucking knife to your throat, Livia? He would've..." He shook his head and let out a rising growl that sent her flesh scattering into goosebumps again. He made a half-turn and began punching the steering wheel with the bloody knuckles of his right hand; the truck rocking back and forth from the force of his blows as the horn honked in a rapid, nonsensical Morse Code. She closed her eyes and waited for him to be finished, flinching only a little each time he struck the wheel.

He finally turned back to face her again, breathing harshly and growling like an angry dog. That wild, unpredictable fury flashed in his eyes, setting her heart into another almost painful stutter. "Maybe I wanted to taste that fucker's blood, eh?!" he raged at her, his face turning an even darker shade of red as thick veins popped out in his neck on both sides. "Maybe I wanted to feel the meat of him torn by my teeth....maybe... maybe I... _Arrrggh_!! Godfuckingdamit, Livia!! What the fuck does it matter _why_? You know just as well as I do that _he had it fucking coming_!!!" He was panting now, sweating and shaking with hatred, and the light and shadows shifting on his face made him look like someone else; changing him into someone almost completely unrecognizable to her.

He took a deep breath as if to calm himself and then he whispered the last bit of his confession to her in a flat voice that held no remorse or pity whatsoever, "I would've eaten his heart, if you want to know the truth of it, darlin'. I would've been happy to...I just couldn't get through his fucking ribcage to actually get at it. Go ahead and call me sick, call me fucked up if you want to, but I gave that piece of shit no less than exactly what was coming to him and I'd do it again if I could, Livia. The only thing I'd do differently is that next time I'd bring a fucking bone saw with me."

Her own voice was so low now that it was almost non-existent, "Jesus, Trevor..."

" _What?!?_ " he growled warningly.

She put her head in her hands and gave a long, shuddering sigh; feeling worn out and slightly dizzy after being bombarded by Trevor's rollercoaster of emotions. "Let's just go home," she whispered, covering her eyes as if to block out the world around her. "Please... _please_. I just want to go home now."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He was mostly silent on the way home, only muttering angrily occasionally as he drove too fast and too recklessly; blowing through stop signs and exceeding the speed limit the whole way there. Once they pulled into the driveway of the house she didn't even wait until he had stopped the truck before she hopped out and ran up to the front door. She could hear him cursing again as he yanked the emergency brake but she didn't let it slow her down any. She just had to get away from him...even if only for a few moments.

Livia ran as fast as she could, nearly knocking Wade over in the hallway and ignoring his surprised, "What? _Hey_!" as she fled to the master bedroom. She hurried into the bathroom, heading for the medicine cabinet. She leaned against the sink for a long moment with her hair obscuring her face, counting backward from one hundred until her heart slowed down to something approaching normal and her body no longer shivered like a wet cat's. When she finally felt more or less okay, she raised her head again and stood there for a bit, examining the cut on her neck and carefully avoiding her own gaze in the mirrored face of the cabinet.

The wound was superficial and had stopped bleeding long ago but she decided to clean it up anyway just in case. She removed her shirt and got a washrag out of the drawer below her to soak in cold water. Livia cleaned the tiny trail of blood from her skin and then the wound itself; hissing through her teeth as the cloth touched it and made it sting a little. She grabbed some antibiotic ointment from the medicine cabinet and was just closing it again when she saw the reflection of Trevor standing in the open doorway; watching her.

Livia couldn't stop herself from jumping a little in shock at the sight of him and then turned to face him, placing her hand over the nervous flutter between her breasts. "Oh, y-you scared me!" She gave a phony-sounding laugh and then shook her head as if to clear it. "I, uh, I'll be out of your way in just a second," she told him, speaking to the scuffed toes of his worn boots in order to avoid his angry, black-eyed stare. "Just let me finish up and -"

"Why would I want you to leave?" he asked, reaching down to pull his blood-soaked shirt up over his head and toss it into the laundry basket by the door.

Livia didn't have an answer for that so she just fidgeted nervously with her hands, not knowing what to do. She felt vulnerable and exposed standing there in only her bra and jeans, scared and waiting to see what he would say or do next.

Trevor gave a sigh and stepped forward, heading toward her stinking of blood and sweat. Livia stood aside while he grabbed the bar of soap from the lip of the sink and began washing the thick, tacky blood from his hands and hairy forearms; even scrubbing the bits of gore from beneath his fingernails. She glanced up in the mirror once and saw him staring back at her, causing her to quickly look away again.

He finished washing up and reached for the buckle of his pants. "I'm gonna take a shower now," he said, his voice still gruff and unhappy. "You wanna join me?"

Livia took an involuntary step back and then mentally cursed herself, hoping he didn't notice and fearing that he had. "Th-that's okay," she replied, wincing at the shaky, terrified sound of her voice. "I'm really tired. I think I'm just gonna go to bed now...if that's okay with you"

Trevor's hands fell away from his belt and slowly lifted his head up to look at her. Livia's heart began to thud heavily in her chest and she took another step away from him, toward the door before she could stop herself. She could plainly see the pain and anger on his face and she thought he might start yelling at her again but he surprised her by turning away. Giving a wave of one hand as if dismissing her, he muttered, "That's fine, then. Goodnight, darlin'."

Livia echoed the sentiment in her too-small voice and hurried out of the bathroom. Quickly changing out of her clothes and into a clean pair of pajamas, she lay down on their new bed (one of the few things Trevor had splurged on) and covered herself up with new sheets and lay her head on a pillow that still smelled of the plastic it had been wrapped in less than twenty four hours ago. She listened to the drumming of the shower and closed her eyes; trying to will herself to go to sleep. But her mind kept turning back to their conversation earlier and how Trevor had admitted to engaging in cannibalism with very little hesitation.

She'd thought he might try to deny it or at least attempt to hide the truth from her somehow but he hadn't lied to her in the end. No more than he had ever lied to her about anything. She didn't know how she could look at him and see anything but that blood coating his chin or the bits of human meat stuck between his teeth. Worst of all, he didn't really even see anything wrong with it...like this was something that wasn't new to him.

 _How many other people has he decided to snack on? Oh God, how many more would he admit to if I asked him? Dozens? Hundreds?_ her mind whispered, making her feel queasy all over again. _Would he eat_ me _if I made him mad enough?_

She shook her head at this thought, squeezing her eyes shut so tight that there were red bursts of color; tiny supernovas in the black void of space behind her eyes. "No," she whispered aloud, clutching the sheet over her with white-knuckled fists as she shook her head back and forth. "Don't think like that. Just don't."

 _Oh, he wouldn't do it because he 'loves you', right?_ her thoughts were like a mocking voice now, somewhat similar to Trevor's own. _Oh, yeah, he loves you so much, alright. So much that he kidnapped you, raped you and has pretty much treated you as less than a person the whole time you've known him. Face the facts, you dope, you're just property. No different than a pet dog or cat. The only difference is that Rex or Fluffy just go to the animal shelter if their owner decides they don't want them anymore. They don't have to worry about being butchered and served up on a plate._

"Shut up," she whispered fiercely into her pillow, speaking to herself as if there really were another person talking to her. In a way it felt very much like another person's voice, like some unbidden presence speaking to her from the darkest recesses of her mind, and she clenched her teeth as she tried to force it away; to make it fall silent so that she could go on about the business of trying to forget. "That's not going to happen. It's not. It's _not_ , goddamn it, so just stop it."

 _Deny it if you want. It's not going to make it hurt less when the dying time comes. And it will come, just you wait and see._

"Shut up!" she nearly screamed into her pillow. "Just shut the fuck up already!"

And so she wrestled internally with herself until she heard the shower turn off and then the fear was back; swallowing her whole and making all of her denials and attempts to self-sooth seem foolish.

Moments later Trevor came out of the bathroom smelling like soap and clean skin and soon he was climbing into bed with her; getting close enough to wrap his impossibly strong arms around her. He felt her stiffen up and his hands tightened on her; holding her so tightly that she couldn't move away from him even if she tried. She could hear him breathing, feel his breath stirring the hair over her ear, but she couldn't make herself turn her head to look at him; just stared up at the ceiling and waited for whatever was coming next as anxiety twisted her guts.

"Your heart is beating so fast," he murmured, moving his head closer so that he could nuzzle the skin under her ear and sounding as if he were already halfway aroused. "Are you scared, darlin'?"

Her words came out breathless and weak, "Yes, Trevor."

"Why?" he asked, lifting his head again as his voice changed; becoming slightly rougher, edging toward anger. "You know I'd never hurt you, right?"

She felt his hand trace the outline of her collarbone and she shivered helplessly, closing her eyes against it. "I...I know," she answered, but it was a lie. She was still unsure even now.

"I'd never do to you what I did to that guy," he told her. "Never in a million years. I don't do that kind of thing often...you know, not as a rule, anyway. And you...shit, you never have to worry about that. You know why?"

She cleared her throat and whispered, "B-because you love me?"

Trevor bopped her gently on the tip of her nose with one finger and said, "Bingo."

He let his hand settle on her breast and she shuddered, closing her eyes tight again. His hand slid over the soft mound of flesh and then under the sheet, slipping down further and further until he reached the waistband of her pajamas. Her breathing was becoming sharp and erratic, her heart pounding harder and harder, and she tried to tell herself to stop. Not to panic, just let him do what he wanted so it could be done and over with.

"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone," he told her, his fingertips slipping beneath the thin fabric and tickling the sensitive skin just above her pubic mound; sending electric shockwaves through her middle that made her feel like screaming. "I could never hurt you, Livia. You don't have to be scared of me."

She wanted to believe him, even after everything, she still wanted to believe him...but wanting to doesn't make a thing real.

He leaned over her to place his lips on hers and she hesitated briefly before trying to pull away from him. Trevor had anticipated this, though, and his other hand came up to grip her face and hold her still as he wormed his tongue into her mouth. His other hand slipped down to find her clitoris and press on it before he began rubbing slowly up and down; making those little tingles of wanting in her middle even stronger. He kissed her more deeply, his tongue delving farther than before, and Livia tried to relax, tried not to think and just let go of her fear, but all she could see was the blood on his mouth and the chunks of whatever in his teeth. The more she thought about it the more it seemed like she could taste the blood of the dead man still on his tongue. This coupled with the undeniable arousal he was stirring within her was too much for her to bear and something inside of her finally broke with an almost audible snap.

Livia tore her head out of his grasp with a fearful cry and pleaded, "Please, stop! Please, just _stop it_!!"

Trevor drew back but she felt his hand tighten on her sex as she tried to turn away from him, effectively pinning her down. "Fucking hell, what's gotten into you?" he asked, speaking through clenched teeth and yet sounding hurt and bewildered at the same time.

Livia couldn't seem to catch her breath as her throat narrowed down and she whispered, "I can't do this. I'm sorry, I - I just can't. Not now."

She felt Trevor's free hand suddenly snatch up one of her own and she gasped in terror as he pinned it above her head; gripping her so tightly that her wrist bones grated together painfully. "You can because I fucking say you can!" he snapped back at her, his voice low and dangerous; all hints of tenderness now absent. His hand tightened down on her sex and she squirmed in discomfort, trying not to cry aloud and anger him even more. "And you fucking will if I say you will," he whispered.

She began to cry big helpless tears, turning her face away from him because even though her eyes were still closed she knew that the ugly look of black hatred would be on his face again. "Please, Trevor," she begged him, her breath hitching with a watery sob on the second word. "I'm...I'm sorry. _Please_ , don't do this to me again!"

She heard him groan above her and his hand squeezed her wrist and pubis tighter and tighter for a moment, making her squirm in pain, before releasing her entirely. She felt him shift upward, throwing himself into a sitting position seconds before he gave a feral growl and drove his fist into the drywall just above her head. Livia let out a terrified little cry and shielded her face with her arms as he pulled his fist out again with a grunt and little bits of plaster and dust rained down on her from above.

She felt his weight shift the bed as he jumped off and heard the sound of his feet hitting the floor. He let out a furious growl, something that sounded like, "Well, fuck it, then!" and then she heard him stalking angrily away from the bed. She flinched again as he gave another roar of fury and drove his fist into the wall somewhere in the direction of the bathroom. She lay there, cowering in fear even as she heard the sound of him picking up his shoes and pants and then his stomping feet trailing toward the door leading out. She heard him fling it open with a curse and then he was slamming it shut behind him again, moving quickly down the hall and still growling to himself.

Livia lowered her shaking arms and slowly came up into a sitting position, listening as his heavy footsteps left the hall and then made their way out the front door; slamming it shut again so hard that it seemed the whole house shook around her. Moments later there was the sound of the truck's engine starting and then the squeal of tires as he backed out of the driveway and roared down the street. She waited, listening, but there was no more and all was silent again.

She gave a long, shuddering sigh and covered her face with her hands once more, feeling somehow guilty and yet relieved at the same time. He hadn't gone through with it and now, hopefully, he'd just gone to cool off somewhere. It was over, she was safe, and she could stop being afraid for a little while. 

After another long moment she heard much lighter footsteps outside of the bedroom door and then a light tapping. On the other side of the wood came Wade's voice, soft and concerned, "Livia? You, uh, you alright in there?"

Giving a heavy sigh and wiping the tears away from her face, she cleared her throat and replied, "Yeah, Wade. I...I'm fine."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," she said, reaching down to shift the blanket a little and make sure that she was fully covered. "Go ahead."

He hesitated a moment as if he wasn't sure he was doing the right thing but then the doorknob turned and the door slowly opened to reveal Wade's frightened eyes and pale, dirt-streaked face. "I heard Trevor leave," he said, stepping timidly into the bedroom and fiddling absently with the meth pipe he held in one hand. "And I heard him yelling about something but I couldn't understand what he was saying. What...what happened?"

She shook her head, "Don't worry about it, Wade. It's over now."

Livia saw his blue eyes shift toward the hole Trevor had left in the wall behind her and he exclaimed in his soft, still frightened voice, "Holy shit! What happened to the wall?"

She glanced behind her and saw the grapefruit sized hole Trevor's fist had made, her shoulders slumping a little. "What do you think happened to it, Wade?" she asked with a sigh, shrugging a little as she looked back over at him. "Trevor happened."

She saw his eyes shift toward the other hole just next to the bathroom door and then he glanced back at her, his expression even more worried than before. "He must've been _really_ mad," Wade remarked.

She shrugged again and nodded, keeping her mouth shut about the why's and how's of it. He didn't need to know about any of that and it would probably only confuse him anyway.

"Well..." Wade said, scratching nervously at a sore on his cheek as his eyes flicked back over to the wall before returning to her. "O...kay. As long as you're alright I guess I'll leave you alone." He headed for the door again and then stopped, turning to look at her one last time, "If you, uh, need anything just give a yell. I'll be right down the hall, okay?"

The corners of her mouth lifted up into a tired smile at this small kindness he was offering and she blinked away fresh tears. "Okay," she told him with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Wade."

He nodded back at her and they exchanged their good nights before he left again, shutting the door gently behind him. Livia lay back down and curled up into a ball, her muscles loose and relaxed, her fear finally gone for the time being. Now that the danger had passed she knew she wouldn't have much trouble falling asleep. And she was right, soon emotional and physical exhaustion took over and the next thing she knew it was lights out.


	34. Chapter 34

Livia woke the next morning expecting Trevor to greet her only to find that he was still gone. She didn't worry much, just got up to make breakfast for her and Wade, thinking that he'd be back before too long. When he wasn't home by dinner time she began to worry a little more but when midnight rolled around and he _still_ wasn't home, worry turned into outright anxiety. She started pacing the floor, watching the clock without realizing that she was watching the clock, and eventually found herself organizing and putting away some things that they'd been too busy to bother with yet. It was only in an effort to distract herself from worrying; a way to do something productive while she paced holes in the floor.

As she was hanging the last of their clothes in the closet she tripped and almost fell over a big army green duffel bag that was sitting on the floor. She recognized it as the same duffel bag Trevor had brought out of his trailer the night before and when she tried to lift it to put it up on the top shelf she found that it was far too heavy to pick up on her own. Livia looked down at it with a frown; debating with herself whether or not she should open it and find out what was inside. Curiosity eventually got the better of her and she squatted down in front of it, thinking, _What's the worst that could happen?_

So of course her mind, the always helpful hobgoblin that it was, immediately offered the worst possibility it could come up with at the moment and she suddenly remembered the fairy tale that had most disturbed her as a child; the one that had given her nightmares for at least a month after she'd read it in that big battered book of Brother Grimm's tales someone had given her. Was this going to be some kind of Bluebeard scenario? Was she going to open this bag and find it full of the remains of his previous wives? It seemed unlikely considering that the bag hardly looked big enough to carry more than one body, two at most if they had been exceptionally small women...or maybe even more if they were all chopped up into little bits. She shook her head at this unsettling image and told herself that was ridiculous and not to be such a fucking gore crow, but when her hand reached for the zipper she found herself gritting her teeth anyway.

She closed her eyes, told herself to stop being silly, and unzipped it. Taking another deep breath to steel herself against whatever might lay within, she opened her eyes again and looked down to see that the bag was stuffed to capacity with guns and ammunition. When saw only the mellow steel gleam of a stockpile of weapons (rifles, pistols, shotguns and automatic weapons she had no name for), she let out an explosive sigh of relief. There were no murdered wives, no body parts or momentos from his previous victims; nothing but guns mingled in with various boxes of bullets and shells.

So this was what Trevor had been so eager to grab from his trailer the night before; the thing that had almost cost them both their lives. It was understandable, she supposed, there were people gunning for him, after all. Why wouldn't he need enough firepower to supply a small army? 

Livia dug through the bag, picking up this and that and being careful to keep her fingers well outside of the trigger guards. She wasn't expecting anything to be loaded but with Trevor's crazy ass you never really could be sure. She found a 9mm similar to the one Trevor had been teaching her on and held it up before her eyes, turning it until she saw that there was no clip in it. 

She was rummaging through the bottom of the bag to see if there were any clips to be had when a voice spoke up from behind her. "Whatd'ja got there?"

Livia gave a small cry, nearly jumping out of her skin, and turned to see Wade standing over her. "Oh, Jesus, Wade!" she gasped, giving a breathless laugh. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry." He gave her an apologetic smile before he looked over her shoulder and down into the bag of guns. "Hey," he said, his bloodshot eyes opening wide in surprise. "I, uhhhh, I really don't think you should go messin' with that stuff...Trevor'll prolly get mad again."

She glanced back at the bag, "Yeah? Well..." She looked up at Wade once more and arched one eyebrow at him in a challenging look. "Trevor's not here, is he? So the only way he'll know is if you tell him."

One filthy hand came up to scratch at his shaggy head and his face scrunched up as he replied, "Yeah, I guess."

"You're not going to tell him, are you?"

His eyes widened even more as he shook his head, "N-no."

"Good," Livia replied with a nod, turning to fish out a clip and then checking it to see if it fit the gun in her hand. Tossing it back in the bag, she reached for another one and said, "Because what Trevor doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, I'm just looking. No harm, no foul."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Two more days passed and Livia began to think that maybe Trevor wasn't ever coming back. She spent a lot of her time watching TV with Wade, cooking, and smoking because with Trevor M.I.A. there wasn't really a whole hell of a lot else to do. She probably smoked a little more weed than she should've (she certainly took a lot of naps, anyway) but it helped keep her anxiety at bay and her mind off of Trevor. She couldn't do anything about it so what was the use thinking about where he might've disappeared to or when he might come back? If he wanted to come back he would and if he didn't...well, then she had better start worrying about what she might do when bills came due.

Wade wasn't the worst company in the world, he usually made her laugh with the goofy shit he'd say or the way he would do certain things and remind her of a little kid sometimes, but the house was too quiet with Trevor gone. There was nothing to do and life became the slow, mostly dull passage of time that left her feeling sluggish and more than a little depressed. She didn't try to lie to herself about the fact that she actually missed Trevor. Despite everything she missed the hell out of him.

If she hadn't been constantly stoned she might've reflected on how crazy it was that she missed the chaos and how rapidly her mind had accepted and adapted to living in fear once again. It was nothing more than a case of embracing the familiar and returning to old habits she'd never really left behind. It was like putting on a pair of jeans that had fit you twenty years ago and finding out that they still hugged your curves in all the right places even if you had never really liked them to start with.

By the evening of that third day even Wade was beginning to look a little concerned by Trevor's absence and moped around the house looking even more lost than usual. He mostly stayed in his room and listened to his terrible music while he smoked and picked at his scabs. So around sunset she was sitting in the living room despondently flipping through channels and smoking a joint as thick as her pinky finger when she saw headlights splash across the front windows and heard a vehicle pull up outside. She set the joint in the ashtray on the coffee table and muted the television; the fog in her brain clearing a little almost instantly.

Standing from her seat on the couch where she'd been mostly vegetating for the last seventy two hours, she hurried to the front door; having to go up on tiptoe to peek through the cut glass and try to see who it was. It was a little hard to see because the glass was frosted and obcured most detail but she could still clearly see that it wasn't the Bobcat. It was a shiny black car that she didn't recognize and she only watched, unsure of what to do, until the driver's side door opened and a man stepped out.

"Who is it?" said a voice from behind her, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin a second time.

She turned to see Wade standing by one arm of the couch, his dirty face pinched into a strange look of uneasy hope as he wrapped his skinny arms around an even scrawnier waist. "Goddamn it, Wade," she whispered. "I oughta get you a bell or something so you'll quit sneaking up on me."

Wade didn't seem to hear this and asked, "Is it Trevor? Did he come back?"

Livia turned back around and looked through the glass again to see that the man had crossed most of the distance from his car to the front door and when she saw the way his body moved, she knew immediately that it wasn't Trevor. He always reminded her of a bull charging when he walked; arms and shoulders flexed, head lowered, thick, strong legs that looked ready to hit breakneck speed at any moment. The easy, unhurried (and perhaps a bit reluctant) stride of the man approaching the house was about as far from Trevor as you could possibly get.

So Livia drew back, whispering again, "No, that's definitely not him. I don't know who it is. He kinda looks like a cop."

Wade stepped closer, whispering too now, "Maybe he's just lost...or got the wrong house."

 _More likely it's a cop_ , her mind offered, the phantom voice sounding smug and somehow satisfied. _They finally found you and now it's time to pay the Piper._

Livia saw the man's form block out the light filtering in through the glass and she reached over to clutch Wade's arm in her shaking hands. The doorbell rang and, panicking, she pushed him toward the door, "Y-you answer it."

Wade stepped forward, eager to be of help, and she fled the room until she was mostly hidden by the dining room wall, peeking past the side as Wade reached over to turn the deadbolts. She was getting ready to take off running, out the back door, across the back lawn and then, hopefully, over the fence. She could run down the alley until...

When Wade opened the door to a familiar face, she was so surprised that for a moment she couldn't do anything at all. It was Trevor's friend, the one he called Mikey, standing there in a crisp red polo shirt and khaki slacks, looking at her with one eyebrow raised as if he were surprised to see her there.

"Hey," he said, raising one hand as Wade stepped aside to let him in. "Trevor here?"

Livia came out from behind the wall and shook her head, "No."

"Oh," Mikey said, looking around the living room for a moment before turning back to look at her again. "Where is he, then?"

"He's been gone for three days," she said, raising her hands as if admitting defeat. "We have no idea where he is."

Michael's easy smile turned into a frown and he gave a huge sigh, "Well, fuck." His eyes settled on hers again, "Didn't say when he'd be back?"

She shook her head and gave a shrug, "He was..." But Michael didn't need to know anything about that, it was none of his business. "He wasn't exactly in the best of moods when he left. I'd like to know where he is myself. I'd offer to call him but...he didn't leave a phone with me."

"Of course he didn't," Michael returned, sighing again as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Just give me a second and I'll try."

He went to sit on the arm of the couch, muttering to himself under his breath as he unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He quickly found Trevor's number and dialed it but only three seconds later he took the phone away from his ear; his brow furrowed and lips pursed in irritation. "Went straight to voicemail," he said. "Fucking maniac must've turned it off before he decided to go on his little bender."

Muttering some more sour words Livia couldn't quite hear, Michael dialed Trevor's number again and it did the same thing. He ended the call, gave an angry groan and threw up his hands. "Fuck me," he spat, standing up again. "Should've known this shit would happen."

"When did you talk to him last?" Livia asked, her hands worrying at each other as she stood off to one side.

Michael appeared to think a moment, rubbing at one side of his jaw, "Uhhh...four days ago? Not too long after you guys moved in here."

Livia nodded and gave her own sigh, bowing her head in disappointment, "I guess there's no telling where he is." A thought stopped her and she raised her head to look at Michael again, "Well, what about Frank? Why don't you give him a call and see if he's heard anything?"

Michael nodded, "Yeah, okay. It's worth a shot."

So he called Franklin, spoke with him briefly, and Livia's hopes went out the window when Mike looked over at her and slowly shook his head. They talked a little more and she heard him mention a guy named Lester, wondering why that name sounded familiar. It took her a moment to gather her scattered thoughts but she recognized that as the name of the guy that sold Trevor the house.

Michael's eyes came to rest on hers for a moment and he frowned, "Yeah, she's here. Why?" A pause as he listened for a moment before replying, "Sure. Sure. Hang on a second." He took the phone away from his ear and held it out to Livia, "Frank wants to talk to you."

Livia took the phone and put it up to her ear, "Hello?"

"Hey, girl," came Franklin's voice on the other end. "So Trevor's been missing a few days, huh?"

"Yeah," she answered a little reluctantly. "We...we had a disagreement, he got really mad at me and then he just took off."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Frank asked, suddenly sounding serious and maybe even a little angry too.

Livia was surprised and a little touched by his concern but tried to keep all emotion out of her voice as she answered, "No more than usual, I guess."

Franklin grumbled something she couldn't quite hear and then said, "Listen, I'm gonna get a friend of ours to look into this. Maybe trace Trevor's phone or...whatever computer magic shit Lester does to find people. He'll find him and we'll go drag him outta whatever dumpster his crazy ass been sleeping in. We'll get him home to you, Livia. I _promise_."

"Thanks, Franklin," she said, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. "I...I really appreciate that."

"Shit, don't tell me thank you until we find him," Frank told her, his tone curt but not unkind. "And, hey, I was thinking maybe you'd want to come over and hang out a little while we wait. Would it be okay if Michael dropped you off or you want me to call you a cab?"

The tears were closer than ever now at his thoughtfulness. He didn't want to leave her there with nothing in the way of communication, didn't want her to sit there and worry on her own anymore. Going to Franklin's seemed like the best thing she could think of for the time being; she felt like her brain was slowly melting away just sitting around with Wade for company. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to that was more or less on the same level as her.

"I'll take a ride with Michael, if he says it's okay," she said in answer to Frank's question.

"Okay," he said, sounding satisfied. Then, "Go pack an overnight bag just in case?"

"Sure," she replied with a smile. "See you soon."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Twenty minutes later they were pulling up at Franklin's and Chop came bounding out to greet her as soon as the front door was open. The dog damn near knocked her down as he tried to lick every inch of exposed skin on her arms and face but Livia managed to keep her footing and scratched behind his ears with a laugh, "Hey, boy! I'm happy to see you, too."

Franklin came strolling out to shake hands with Michael before they all went inside. The guys cracked open a couple of beers and she played tug of war with Chop while they talked things over in the kitchen. Michael left without even finishing his beer, giving her a nod and a wave as he headed for the front door. Franklin came into the living room still holding his beer in one hand and watched them play with a small smile on his face.

"I think Chop really likes you," he commented after a moment. "He waited by the front door after we got off the phone earlier. It's like he knew you were coming."

"Maybe he did," Livia replied with a shrug. "Dogs are a lot smarter than most people give them credit for."

Franklin gave a sarcastic snort and said, "Well, I'm sure some of them are, anyway."

Livia made a face and patted Chop's huge head, "Awww. That's not fair. You're a smart boy, aren't you, Chop?"

The dog barked once as if in answer to this and wagged his tail before leaping at his rope toy again and pulling hard enough to almost rip her arm out of its socket. She laughed and Franklin came to sit down beside her. After a moment Livia gave up on tug of war and let Chop have it, giving him one final pat before turning her attention to Franklin again.

"Do you really think that we can find him?" she asked.

Franklin shook his head and took another drink of his beer before replying, "No. Not us. Lester can, though. That motherfucker is as smart as they come. If anyone can find Trevor, Lester can."

"How long will it take, do you think?"

He shrugged, "No idea." He looked over at her and leaned forward, tipping his beer bottle at her for emphasis. "But we should know something soon. So don't worry too much, okay?"

Livia gave a sigh and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, "I'm trying not to. I just keep thinking that he's lying in a ditch or dead somewhere. That those bikers finally caught up with him and maybe -"

She felt his hand gently touch her arm and give a small squeeze, stopping her mid-sentence. "Don't think like that," he told her in a calm yet stern voice. "Worrying yourself sick over it won't help a goddamned thing. Besides...I think you know him well enough by now to know that the only thing that can kill Trevor is Trevor hisself. Someone else could drop a nuke on that motherfucker and he'd probably just get up, brush the dirt off and walk away."

Livia cracked a wan smile at this, "Yeah. You know, I actually could see that happening."

Franklin smiled too and let go of her arm, shifting a little until he could lean back against the couch and give a sigh. "Give it an hour," he told her. "Two at most. Lester will find him, you'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who's been waiting on an update, please forgive me for the delay. I hate going so long without posting, especially when the chapter isn't all that exciting (and mostly just setting up the next). In my defense, things have been rather difficult for me these last few weeks (don't worry, I won't bore you with the details) but I never intended to have such a long gap between chapters. Life just gets in the way sometimes, you know?


	35. Chapter 35

Despite Franklin's assurances, it was more than an hour or two before they heard from Lester. Livia did her best not to think about it, to not worry and just enjoy her time hanging out with someone that she genuinely liked and had nothing to fear from, but she was nervous as hell about what would happen when Lester finally found him. Trevor was dangerous and he still scared the shit out of her but she hadn't been lying when she'd told him that she cared about him. Even after everything she'd been through because of him, she didn't want to see Trevor get hurt.

So when Frank offered her a glass of wine she accepted it with genuine thanks, thinking it might help settle her nerves. Sitting there in Franklin's living room, sipping the dark red liquid and enjoying the mellow warmth that spread through her middle, she did manage to loosen up somewhat and enjoy herself; watching movies and playing video games and smoking twice as much as she would've on her own. She actually managed to laugh so hard a couple of times that her face ran with tears and she had to smother her face in a pillow to muffle her howling. Her laughter had a hysterical quality to it that frightened her a little but she did feel better afterwards. As she wiped her eyes and hiccupped, helplessly trying to catch her breath, she found that she didn't regret her decision to join Franklin at all.

The weed and the wine helped, of course. She'd never been a heavy drinker but red wine had always been her go-to and she ended up liking Franklin's so much that she had another glass and a half before calling it a night. She spent her time a little buzzed but far from drunk and that was just the way she liked it; a little fuzzy around the edges but quick to sober up when the time called for it. It's hard to get drunk and do really stupid shit when it takes you all night to drink less than half a bottle. She'd learned that from years of experience.

Franklin offered her his bed and she tried to refuse but he wouldn't hear it, saying he was fine sleeping on the couch for just one night. Livia accepted with humble thanks, thinking again what a nice kid he was, and went into his room to change into her pajamas. She lay down on sheets that smelled strongly of fabric softener and, even though she didn't expect to sleep, she was out within the first thirty minutes. The wine and the comfy bed helped her sleep more deeply than she had since this whole thing started and for the next nine hours she was free from that constant nagging sense of holding her breath and waiting for the hammer to come down on her head.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She awoke around noon the next day to the sound of someone's rough voice and the feel of an even rougher hand shaking her impatiently. She groaned, "Wha...whosit?" and cracked one bleary eye open to see Trevor standing over her. Livia slowly sat up, not quite sure if she was awake or still dreaming, and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands the way a tired child would. When she looked up again he was still standing there, still looking down at her with his face set in an unreadable mask.

"Trevor?" she asked, her voice starting out weak and rusty before she cleared her throat and it returned to normal. "What the... Where have you been?!"

His lips stretched into a thin and humorless smile and his voice was almost pleasant as he asked, "Surprised to see me?"

She threw the covers off of her and stood on legs that didn't want to support her at first. She fell back onto her butt and looked up at him, still confused. "I was wondering when you were going to show up again," she said, licking lips that tasted like ashes with a tongue that was as dry as sandpaper. "I - I didn't know if you were ever coming back. I've been worried sick about you, Trevor."

"Oh, I bet," he said, his smile trembling a little at the corners. Something flashed in his eyes then and she felt her heart skip a beat. He was mad, she realized. Mad at her. Why? What could she have done wrong?

Standing from the bed on legs that were now trembling slightly, she asked, "W-why are you acting like this? What's going on?"

Trevor gave a laugh that almost sounded like a sob and said, "That's just what I've been wondering myself, darlin'. What _has_ been going on while I was away?"

She heard footsteps descending on the stairs leading up to the rest of the house and Trevor looked behind him at the open bedroom door before his gaze returned to hers again. Suddenly his smile was gone and the cold look in his eyes made her stomach clench in fear. But not for her...it would've been so much better if it had just been fear for herself.

Her whole body was shaking now, her voice low and incredulous as she said, "Trevor, you can't possibly think that -"

But what happened next caused her words to change into a frantic cry of, "No, Trevor, please!" as Franklin stepped into the doorway and Trevor grabbed the younger man by the throat at the same time. Franklin let out a surprised, choked cry and then Trevor was behind him; wrapping one arm around his throat and trying to lock it behind Frank's head with his other arm.

Franklin gave a garbled shout of outraged fury and sent one of his elbows into Trevor's hard midsection. Trevor grunted in obvious pain and, instead of securing Franklin in a chokehold, Frank slipped out and ducked Trevor's swinging fist before grabbing him in a bear hug. He let out a tremendous roar and lifted Trevor off of the ground in a sudden surge of surprising strength; slamming the older man down hard enough to knock the breath out of him. It only took Trevor a moment to recover and then they were both in a hard scramble to assert power over the other; grunting, cursing, trying to gain the upper hand.

"Stop! Stop it right now!" Livia could hear herself screaming, wanting to rush forward and pull them apart but knowing on some level that she'd only end up making things worse. "What the fuck are you doing?! For God's sake, _STOP_!!!"

They wrestled on the ground for a while, both of them fighting like wild dogs without ever throwing a punch, but in the end Trevor's madness proved to be stronger. Soon he was pinning Frank to the ground with one tattooed forearm across his throat and pinning his right arm down next to him with his other hand. Frank's free hand was ruthlessly gripping Trevor's scant covering of hair in an attempt to pull him off but he only succeeded in choking himself all the more; his breath wheezing in and out of his terribly constricted throat. 

"Fucking stop it!" Livia wailed, trying to somehow make them listen to reason. "Have you both lost your minds?!"

"How long have you been fucking my woman?!" Trevor screamed down at Franklin, ignoring Livia completely. His face was beet red as he strained against Frank's tight grip on his hair and veins were bulging on the side of his neck and forehead. His eyes were insane with jealousy and wildly glaring down at the man he'd once called a friend as he shouted, "How long, you treacherous piece of shit?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Franklin growled back, his voice sounding strangled and breathless as he yanked backward again to try and somehow pull him off. "You've really gone off your fucking nut this time, T!"

"You think I'm fucking stupid?!" he shot back, spit flying from between his tightly clenched teeth. "You think I don't know?! That I can't see?!"

Trevor's black eyes were so filled with hurt and anger that Livia felt a shiver run down her back as she realized it was cold-blooded murder she saw lurking just beneath the surface. He loved Frank, she knew he did. She could tell by the way that he spoke to and about him...but none of that really mattered now. The green eyed monster had reared its ugly head and Trevor had been pushed completely over the edge. He really would kill Frank, she knew. He might feel bad about it later but right now all he could see was red; all he could feel was overwhelming rage from this perceived betrayal.

"What kind of fucking fool do you take me for?!" he screamed, his voice a shrill howl of anguish that made her hair stand up on end. "She was in your bed, Frank! _In. Your. Bed._ Why would my girl be in _your fucking bed_?!" His forearm pressed down harder and harder and Livia heard Frank let out a strangled cry of pain as Trevor leaned down and hissed, "I loved you like a brother, you know that? Why did you have to do it? Why _her_? Of all the fucking broads on the fucking planet, why'd you have to go and stick your dick in mine?! I thought we were cool, Frank! _I THOUGHT I COULD FUCKING TRUST YOU_!!!"

Franklin made that odd strangling/gargling noise again, trying to respond, and then with obvious effort he jerked Trevor's head back a little more to relieve some of the pressure on his neck. He took a moment to catch his breath and then spoke, his voice sounding harsh and raspy as he said, "She slept on my bed and I slept on the fucking couch, okay? That's _it_ , dog! That's _all_!" He gasped for air again before his dark eyes returned to Trevor's hate-filled stare, "I never fucking touched her, Trevor! I swear to God, _I didn't do anything wrong_!!!"

There was a long beat of tense silence in which Trevor and Franklin both stared at the other and then Livia stepped forward, cautiously hopeful. "Please, Trevor," she pleaded, clutching at the collar of her pajama top and twisting it between her hands. She couldn't let him hurt Franklin. Not Frank, who'd been nothing but kind and caring; nothing but a friend to her from the beginning. If anything happened to him she just wouldn't be able to live with it. She wouldn't be able to go on knowing she'd caused the death of the only person who'd been a true friend to her for so many years. "Please, just...just listen to him, okay? He's telling you the truth. We're both telling you the truth!" 

Trevor's eyes flicked away from Frank's and that dark murderous look was still there, maybe more so than ever. "You shut your fucking mouth!" he shouted, tears now standing in his eyes. "You'd say anything! Anything to keep your little boyfriend here alive, right?!"

She held her hands out to him in supplication, fighting back her own tears as her heart thundered in her chest and fear clutched her insides with icy fingers. He had to see reason, he just _had_ to. "No, Trevor," she said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice even as her whole body shook. "Frank is my friend, okay? Just a friend, I swear. I - I would never do that to you...don't you know that?" She paused a moment and looked into his eyes, forcing her will upon him the same as he'd done to her so many times. "No more than you would ever do it to me."

Something in Trevor's eyes flickered. Was she getting through to him? Was he finally realizing that they were telling him the truth?

He licked at his lips in a quick, almost lizard-like fashion, his upper lip still curled into a snarl, but his eyes didn't seem to have as much of that white-hot look of fury as they did before. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Just blind hope that he could be made to see reason at last.

"You're lying to me," he said, the uncertainty coming through crystal clear in his voice. "You two have been going behind my back all this time, haven't you? You've been playing me like a fucking fiddle and laughing at me!"

"No," she said again, shaking her head back and forth. "You...do you really think I would do that? _Me_ of all people? After what Paul did...do you really think I would do that to someone else? That I would wish that on anyone?"

Trevor stared at her for a long moment and bit his lower lip hard enough to show the shape of his teeth beneath it. She could see him trying to hold on to his anger, could see him struggling with himself; wanting to believe and not believe anything at the same time. She took another cautious step forward and now she was close enough to lay her hand on his trembling shoulder, to feel his taut muscles thrumming like a live wire beneath her hand. She massaged him tenderly, still trying so hard to make him come back down from his tower of seething rage.

"Come on," she said, dropping her voice into a whisper. "Let's just go home, huh? I've been waiting for you for so long. I...I've missed you and been worried about you this whole time, Trevor."

Her other hand came up to caress his cheek and after a moment he leaned into it with a sigh, closing his eyes and pressing his hand down on top of hers. She realized that somewhere during all this he'd released Franklin and that Franklin had released him, too. After a moment she felt Trevor's arms go around her middle and then he was burying his face into the sensitive place just below her belly button. He clutched her with panicky strength, as if afraid she'd fly away.

"I'm sorry, Livia," he moaned hollowly. "I just...I love you so much. I couldn't stand it...I couldn't... _couldn't_." He was shaking his head back and forth and she could feel him shivering all over even though his skin was so hot it almost felt like it was burning her hands.

She stroked the top of his head with one hand and murmured, "Shhhh. That's okay, Trevor. It's alright now."

He pulled away from her after a long moment and gave a heavy sigh, sounding as if he were going to start crying soon. Both men were panting and shaking but the burning fury in the room had been extinguished and they no longer looked ready to kill each other. In fact, Trevor seemed to have forgotten for a moment that Franklin was there at all. She bent and placed a kiss on the scarred flesh of his sweaty forehead with her cool lips. Whispering low so only he could hear her, she said, "Come on. Take me home with you, Trevor."

He looked up at her and slowly nodded. The tears standing in his eyes were unshed but she knew they were close to spilling over. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "Yeah, okay. I'm so sorry, darlin'. I - I don't know what I was thinking."

Franklin had wriggled his way out from under Trevor long before and now he sat up, still trying to catch his breath and rubbing at his sore throat. "You weren't," he said, his voice still raspy and wheezy. "I can't believe you thought we would..." He shook his head and there was a bit of angry reproach in his voice as he finished, "I honestly thought we were closer than that, T."

Trevor looked over at Franklin with wounded eyes and now the tears finally came rolling down over his cheeks. He tried to speak and his voice cracked, "I - I'm so sorry, kid. I -"

Frank raised one hand and shook his head, cutting Trevor off before he could go any further. He groaned as he pushed himself up until he was standing on his feet again. He coughed behind one hand and cleared his throat a couple of times before extending the other down to Trevor, "Come on. Just...just listen to your girl. Go home and relax. Get some fucking rest, okay?"

Trevor looked at his hand only for a second, his face drawn down into a frown that made him seem even older than he was. But the horrible look of furious jealousy was gone and so was any suspicion he'd held before. He looked tired and worn out; damn near used up. Livia briefly wondered how long it had been since he'd slept; how many days he'd been running on fumes. Trevor gave a watery sigh and took Franklin's hand, standing with the younger man's help. He stood there looking at Franklin for almost a full minute; obviously struggling to find the right words to say. Then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around him in a hug, squeezing him tight. Livia watched Franklin's eyes go wide a moment as if he thought he were being attacked again and then he seemed to understand; his arms slowly coming up to hug him and pat him on the back with one hand.

After a long pause the two men released each other and Trevor's voice was weak and unsteady as he said, "Oh, Frank, I'm such a fool. A blind fucking fool. I'm so fucking sorry."

Frank cocked his head to one side and shrugged. He could be pissed, Livia knew. He had every right to be mad but he wasn't and it made her like him even more. Trevor had been right to say he was a good kid.

"Nah, dog," he said, clapping one hand on Trevor's shoulder. "I'm sorry, too. I should've known what it'd look like...I guess I wasn't really thinking, either."

Trevor stood there a moment and then grabbed him into another brief hug before releasing him and heading toward the bedroom door, sniffling and wiping at his nose with one hand. "I'll wait outside," he told them, choking down a sob and covering his face with one hand. He seemed as if he had more to say, hesitating for a long beat, and then he turned and swiftly walked away; bounding up the stairs two at a time as he strangled on another smothered cry.

Franklin and Livia didn't say a word to each other as he helped gather her things; both of them were too lost in their own thoughts. Minutes later she was climbing into the cab of the Bobcat with Trevor and waving goodbye to Frank, glad to see his mouth lift into a tiny smile before he faded from view entirely.


	36. Chapter 36

Trevor sat slumped behind the wheel, no longer crying or visibly upset yet driving with one hand and rubbing at his forehead with the other as if he had a headache. He had stopped crying a little while ago and with the cessation of his choked sobs and little half-smothered moans, an eerie, oppressive silence had descended in the cab of the Bobcat. She could feel it there charging the air around them with an overwhelming sense of dread; something that made her think of low-hanging storm clouds that were big and pregnant with lightning. Trevor's face was cold and closed off and his wet, red-rimmed eyes stared out at the streets before them; the only part of him that was outwardly miserable. Livia knew that this sudden quiet could not be trusted, that underneath it all he was still in a highly emotional state, and so she waited. She practically had to bite her lips against the questions that wanted to come pouring out of her but somehow she managed to keep them sealed. Nevermind that she felt as though she might explode if she didn't get the answers she needed soon, she just had to be patient with him.

She also had to keep in mind that there was always the real possibility of triggering Trevor into another bout of uncontrolled anger, of risking him feeling like hurting himself or someone else, because in his current mindset anything might come across as a challenge or finger-pointing. She could've easily lulled herself into thinking that the danger was past (Trevor had been damn-near bawling not even twenty minutes ago) but she was too keen to his mood swings and she'd known even then that his sorrow wouldn't last long. Sure, he seemed calm enough now but in the blink of an eye he could do an about face and shift back into that terrifying breed of bloodthirsty rage once again. There was no need to push him. He would tell her everything in his own good time, of that she had no doubt. It just wasn't in Trevor's nature to lie...not even if the truth hurt her. So she just sat there and watched all the pretty people and places flash by her dirty window, still scared of opening her mouth only to say exactly the wrong thing.

Soon they were pulling up in their driveway and she kept her silence as Trevor turned off the engine. She heard him give a sigh and then he lowered his head to rest it on top of the steering wheel as if it were far too heavy to hold upright any longer. Livia waited some more, nervously twiddling her fingers, and tried not to grow impatient with him. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting she finally couldn't take it anymore and asked, "Are you okay, Trevor?"

He didn't raise his head as he croaked back at her, "I would've killed him. I...I almost did. Jesus...I almost killed Franklin."

She strived to keep her tone as gentle as possible, "Come on, Trevor, y-"

He snapped his head up to look at her and, just as she had predicted, she could see that wild ferocity crowding in on the dark edges of his countenance again; causing the words to die in her mouth as her stomach clenched in anxiety once more. "Don't you make any fucking excuses for me," he growled, his voice low and venomous. "I almost killed that kid and for what?" He slammed one calloused hand down on the steering wheel, making her jump even though she'd known it was coming. " _For what_?!"

"Please, stop," she whispered, her voice shaking no matter how she tried to keep calm. "There's no reason to -"

"Oh, there's reason!" Trevor shouted at her, spittle landing on her cheeks as he brought his face closer to hers. "The reason is that I'm a fucking psycho! Isn't that what you called me before, Livia? _A fucking psycho_?!"

She _had_ called him that, she remembered. The last time he'd gone crazy with jealousy over that stupid gas station clerk ogling her; the night he'd almost killed them both by driving like a bat out of hell down a busy street in that rusty old Albany. "I - I didn't mean it," she sputtered, her eyes wide and unblinking on his. "Please, Trevor...I was just mad and - and scared. I didn't mean it."

But Trevor was furiously nodding his head, his black eyes never leaving hers, "Yes, you did, Livia. You meant it...and you know what? You were right. I _am_ a psycho. A dangerous fucking psycho who's hurt everyone around him." He looked down at his hands and slowly closed and opened them before rubbing them over them his face and groaning, "Like a....a gorilla with a fucking chainsaw. Just throwing my shit around the room and cutting everybody into pieces."

She reached out for him with one hand, letting it settle on his muscular thigh amid the blood stains and other filth that had soaked into the fabric, and said the only thing she could think of, "I'm sorry."

Trevor gave a quarrelsome growl and she could almost taste the bitterness and mounting self-hatred on his exhalation of air as he turned to face her again, "What the fuck're you sorry for? I'm a goddamned monster and you...you're scared to death of me. I can see it in your eyes even now."

Her ingrained reaction to lie and spare his feelings was almost too strong to resist but she had to because she knew it wouldn't help him. He didn't want meaningless assurances or sugar-coated bullshit. Much like her, the only thing he wanted right now was the truth. "I wasn't being completely honest with you before," she admitted, trying to ignore her pounding heart or the sudden cold trickle of sweat that snaked down her back. "You _do_ scare me. You always have but you...you have your good side, too."

"Good side?!" he asked, laughing and yet somehow sounding unhappier than ever. "What fucking good side is that?! Tell me one time, _one fucking time_ , where I did anything other than hurt you, Livia! Where I did anything but hurt everyone even remotely close to me!!"

She drew her hand away from him, thinking for a long moment and listening to the breath rasp in and out of his throat. He waited, watching her intently, and finally she said, "Well...tonight is a good example."

"You're the one who sounds fucking crazy now," he scoffed, the angry lines in his face seeming deeper than ever. "Have you not heard a word I just said, darlin'? _I almost killed Franklin_."

"But you didn't," she said, unwilling to break their locked stare on one another's eyes. "You _didn't_ , Trevor."

His mouth trembled as he rubbed a hand across his brow and looked away from her for a second, trying to process this. She could see that he still wasn't convinced so, before he could speak again to contradict her, she added, "And the night that man held the knife to my throat. You saved my life, remember? He would've killed me, I'm one hundred percent sure of it. Yeah, they wanted you but...do you really think they would've just let me walk away after I saw both of their faces?" She shook her head and mimed a finger pistol with one hand, pulling an imaginary trigger, "They would've put two rounds in the back of my head and left me out there somewhere in the desert for the buzzards to pick my bones clean. If you hadn't shot him we _both_ would've been dead."

Trevor seemed to mull this over for a long moment before lifting one woolly eyebrow and twisting his lips into a sour look. "And then I ate some of him, remember that?" he asked, his voice thick with a distressing stew of emotions; something that had been simmering on his back burner for God knows how long. "That's why you couldn't stand to let me touch you..." His face sagged into a pitiful scowl and suddenly he sounded as though he might cry again. "And why you couldn't stand to touch me."

Livia looked away from him as her heartbeat sped up and her face flushed with sudden heat, as if she were ashamed. "Y-yes," she murmured, rubbing a hand across the clammy skin over her throat. "I haven't forgotten."

They sat there in silence for a long time with the sun shining in through the windows as birds sang in the trees around them and fluffy white clouds lazily sailed by overhead. She watched a pretty blonde lady walking by, walking her dog down the street with her phone held to one ear; gabbing away with a big smile on her face and not a care in the world.

Suddenly Livia wished she was her, out enjoying this gorgeous spring day where all the flowers seemed to be in bloom and everyone had a smile on their face. The blonde woman was probably on the phone with a friend that she hadn't almost gotten killed or maybe a family member. A brother, a sister, a cousin, an aunt...maybe even her mom. A mom who was loving and caring and didn't care more about getting drunk or high than she did about her own kids. Hell, it could even be her husband. A husband who was also loving and caring and kept his dick safely in his pants until it was time to go home at night. Even though Livia knew nothing about the woman, couldn't possibly begin to know all the preceding days of this stranger's life, she was suddenly sure that it was true. The blonde woman in the flowery sundress certainly looked like one of those bright, happy people that never knew real fear or worry; never knew soul-crushing pain. She looked like she'd never spent a night hungry or cold or pissing blood and wishing for a release, oh God, any kind of release from this life of hurt and misery and betrayal.

But Livia wasn't that kind of person. She would never be her, could never even hope to be like her. She would never have another day where fear didn't sink its hungry teeth into her guts or where she wouldn't have to worry about 'what now? what's next?' She'd never known love, not really, not even when things had been good with Paul. He'd always been selfish and disloyal; she'd just chosen to ignore it. No one had ever loved her. No one had ever cared about her or given a fuck as to whether she lived or died. As weird and messed up as it was, Trevor was the first person who even seemed to give a shit about her. The first person who seemed like he might actually cross the street to piss on her if she was on fire.

She turned her eyes back to him, saw him sitting there ruminating and wallowing in misery, saw the pain and self-loathing on his worn face, and suddenly she wanted to reach out and hug him. She wanted to, she wanted to so bad, but she held back and instead she asked, "Trevor...where did you go?"

He lifted his head from his hands, "What?"

"When you were gone all that time," she said, her eyes nervously darting away from his and then back again; the naked fear in them all too easy to read. "Where did you go? What...what did you do?"

Trevor blinked at her a couple of times as if surprised by her question and then answered, "I don't know. I drove around for a while....then I smoked a couple of bowls and I guess I kinda lost track of time." His brow furrowed as he thought back, trying to remember. "I'm pretty sure I hit a gas station or two. I think I might've shot one of the clerks...or maybe I didn't. There was this one guy, real fucking CEO-looking asshole, who tried calling the cops on me just for bumping into him. I remember hitting him over and over with this metal trash can, you know the ones with the wire cage around it? His fucking head looked like mush after I was through with him. Then there was this other dickwad and-"

"God, Trevor," she said, feeling nauseous. "I don't need a play-by-play."

She saw one corner of his mouth lift in another sour smile, "You asked, didn't you?"

Livia nodded and looked down at her hands in her lap, "I did...but what I really wanted to know was if..."

"What?" he asked again, no longer sounding as if he were smiling.

She let out a sigh and shook her head, "Nevermind. It's dumb. So...so incredibly fucking _stupid_." And it was stupid. Why would it matter? He killed people, he sold drugs, he robbed people, he _ate_ people. Why would it matter if he...? What the fuck did that matter after all this?

"Stop saying that," Trevor said, sounding completely serious. "I don't care if you think it's stupid. Just go ahead and ask me, darlin'."

Livia felt heat rise in her cheeks and she couldn't look at him. She realized suddenly that she felt like she was going to cry. And how fucking dumb was that? How fucking dumb was _she_?

"Did you...did you do anything else?" she asked, closing her eyes as the heat settled deeper into her face. He sat there watching her, waiting, and finally she blurted out, "Oh, shit on toast, did you go fuck someone else after I said no to you?"

Trevor was dead silent and she felt her heart slowly sinking into her stomach. Of course he had! Oh, God, _of course he had_! What had she been thinking? What the fuck was she thinking now? And why did any of it matter? The heat on her cheeks was burning like a wildfire, scorching the last of her hope, and she felt like she was going to throw up or laugh or cry or maybe all of those things at once.

One of her hands reached for the doorhandle and the other covered her mouth to suppress a sob. She would run now. She would run and never look back. She was a moron and she deserved this. She deserved it for ever thinking that she could begin to trust him; to have any faith in him or anyone ever again. She didn't deserve love or loyalty or any of the good things in life that people like that bubbly blonde woman enjoyed. She deserved nothing less for thinking that she could ever have feelings for a monster like him...or that he could have feelings for her.

Livia got the door halfway open before she felt Trevor's hand descend onto her shoulder, stopping her, pulling her back. "Livia," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft; gentle even. "Livia, honey, look at me."

She tried to turn away, tried to tear her shoulder out of his grip, but his fingers clamped down harder, almost painful now.

" _Look at me_."

She turned and had to blink a few times to clear her vision from the tears that fragmented his face into a jumbled confusion of color but when his dark eyes captured hers again she stilled, holding her breath.

"No, darlin'," he said, slowly and solemnly shaking his balding head. " _Never_. I promised you I wouldn't, didn't I? I don't say shit like that just to hear myself speak. I fucking meant it." She felt his other hand slide over to take her free one and she gripped it tight, tight; not wanting to let go.

"I love _you_ ," he told her. "No matter how much I tried to forget that, how I tried to drown it out with booze or crystal or - or even the sound of other people screaming, all I could think about was you...and how much it hurt to know that you don't feel the same way."

Livia felt her tears spill over and suddenly she was throwing her arms around him, placing her lips on him and trying to kiss him everywhere at once. In between kisses she sobbed and gasped, "I'm sorry...so sorry, Trevor...sorry..."

She heard him grunt in surprised pleasure and felt his lips smiling against hers as his hands came up to plunge into her hair. Then he was trapping her mouth with his own and she opened her lips and allowed his tongue inside to explore her mouth; no hesitation, no disgust. She felt like crying and laughing again but this time it wasn't from self-pity or pain. All she could feel was glad. Glad that he was there, glad that she was with him. None of the rest of it mattered just then; nothing mattered but being there with someone who actually gave a shit about her.

Trevor drew back and his eyes were dancing like twin torches in a gust of wind; dancing with joy instead of madness this time. "I've missed you so much," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Let's go inside, eh?" He gave a throaty chuckle and brought her hand down on the throbbing mass beneath his fly. "I don't think I can wait anymore. Feels like I'm about to fucking explode over here."

So they hurried to the door and when Wade tried to approach them, Trevor only gripped her hand and her hip tighter as he guided her back toward the master bedroom and shot him a dark look, growling, "Not now, Wade!"

Wade fell back, chastised, and Trevor led her inside their bedroom before he locked the door and said, "Get on the bed, sweetheart. _Hurry._ "

Livia felt a nervous fluttering in her belly as she reached down to pull up the bottom of her pajama top and tossed it to one side. She shucked down her underclothes as well and then laid back on the bedspread, chewing her lower lip and watching Trevor hop on one foot as he tried to pull his boot off. He almost fell and she giggled behind her hand. She saw his head dart upward, his eyes still full of fire as they met hers again, but when he saw the smile on her lips he seemed to understand that she hadn't been laughing at him in a bad way and he smiled, too.

Trevor leaped into bed with her with a cry of, "Geronimo!" and she giggled again as his hands found her. Then he was gripping the back of her neck and smashing his lips into hers as his other hand gripped her left breast and squeezed. He was already grunting in pleasure as his tongue delved into her mouth and his fingers pinched down on her nipple until she squirmed in mingled pain and pleasure. He finally pulled away from her, leaving her lips feeling bruised and swollen, and then the hand that had been teasing her nipple slipped down on the soft mound of her belly and found the part of her that throbbed and pulsed with anticipation.

He slipped two fingers into her wetness and she gave a soft moan, arching her back as he pushed in further and further. There was no pain, she was already more than ready for him, but he was too eager, making him move a bit rougher than he meant to. "Softly," she whispered, her eyes slipping closed even as another breathless moan escaped her. "Softly, please."

Trevor grunted something that might have been an apology and then he was moving much more gently within her, making her blush and bite her lower lip to keep from moaning loudly and with wanton abandon. She reached down with one hand to grip the throbbing length of his cock and gave a light squeeze, causing him to inhale sharply. She began to loosen her grip on him, thinking she had hurt him, but he thrust forward suddenly, urging her on.

Livia began to stroke him then even as he continued to do the same for her, making him shiver and shake like a sapling in a storm, and then she released him to push lightly against his chest. Trevor broke their kiss, looking down at her curiously as she smiled up at him and whispered, "Lay back."

Trevor pushed himself off of her and did as she asked; his cock sticking up stiffly like an exclamation point at the end of a sentence. Livia moved until she was laying opposite of him and, as she gripped his member and brought her head closer, she looked over at him and asked, "Do you want me to?"

His eyes were wide with surprise but he quickly nodded his head, "Yes, please."

She chuckled softly to herself and then bent her head to lick once at the tip of his cock with her tongue. She felt him shudder beside her again and noticed how his hands were gripping the bedspread underneath them; squeezing the fabric so tight that his knuckles were turning white. Livia smirked, enjoying this already, and then bent again to take him into her mouth. A long, guttural moan escaped him as she lay her tongue along his throbbing flesh and she reached over with one hand to gently cup the heavy weight of his balls. His groan intensified as she began to gently massaged and suck him, one of his hands releasing the bedspread so that he could lay it on the back of her head. He didn't push down, though, only gently stroked her hair before slipping down to massage her neck.

"Fucking hell," he gasped as she took him down so far that her lip were pressed flush against his testicles. "That's...that feels so good, darlin'. So...fucking...good."

She came up for air, breathing through her nose as she swirled her tongue around and made him gasp again; licking away the precum slowly seeping out of the tiny slit at the tip. Trevor's hand was gripping the back of her neck tighter but he wasn't hurting her; he just wasn't ready for her to pull away yet. She teased him with her tongue a moment longer, enjoying the way he arched his back and his left foot twitched like a dying man's. She rolled his balls gently through her fingers until he was panting with need, his hand pressing down harder and harder; trying to get her to take him in all the way again.

Livia finally did so, relishing the way he sighed in pleasure and how his hand loosened and became a tender caress once more. She took him all the way down her throat, her gag reflex something that had gone the way of the Dodo since the first year of her marriage, and got so engrossed in the task of pleasuring him that she literally forgot to breathe for a minute. Trevor was panting harder than ever as she came up for air, her heart pounding and face flushed, and she looked over to see him smiling at her.

"You'd better stop for a minute," he laughed, rubbing her neck and playing with the long strands of her brown hair. "I don't want it to be over so quickly."

Livia smiled back at him and nodded in perfect understanding. Then, unable to help herself, she darted her head down and gave a long swipe with her tongue down the length of his cock from base to tip, laughing when he gave a long groan of frustrated pleasure. She looked up at him, still smiling, and he slowly wagged one finger at her as he chuckled and said, "Very, very naughty girl."

Livia snickered behind one hand and sat up, deciding to give him a bit of a break after all. Before she knew what was happening Trevor sat up, gripped her by her arms, and threw her facedown on the bed. Then Livia felt one of his hands smack her ass, _hard_ ; leaving a big red handprint on her left cheek that stung more than a little. She turned her head to look back at Trevor, at his darkly sparkling eyes and the wide grin that quickly spread across his face.

She moved as if to turn over again and he reached down to hold one of her hands against her back. He gave a wicked laugh, sounding as if he were enjoying this immensely, and then smacked her again, on the other cheek this time. She cried, "Trevor!" but that only seemed to excite him more and soon he was laughing as he continued to spank her. His hand loudly met her backside again and again until she was squirming and crying out as her flesh first turned pink and then darker shades of rosey red.

Livia fought against it but the pain wasn't anywhere near as bad as she was making it out to be. She could feel her face growing warm as she realized that a part of her was enjoying this just as much as he seemed to; something she never would've expected after all the 'whoopings' she'd endured as a child. Of course, this was as different from those long ago childhood beatings as night was from day. Her parents had used a belt or coat hangers or extension cords...pretty much anything that had been nearby at the time. Unlike her father or mother, Trevor was only using his hand and he wasn't doing this just to inflict a painful punishment. He was doing this because he'd immediately recognized the surprised delight that had been in her single backward glance; jumping at the chance to give her whatever she wanted or needed at the moment. Despite her play-acting, her own desire was only growing stronger, more desperate, and soon she could feel her clit pulse with every downward smack of Trevor's hand. She buried her face into the pillow beneath her and let it muffle her gasps and moans of pleasure, feeling ashamed and still trying to hide it.

After a while Trevor grew tired of this and dropped down on top of her, panting and sweating, a low constant rumble of desire issuing from his heaving chest. Spreading her legs wide with one of his own, he gripped himself in one hand and spread the slick lips of her sex apart with the other until he could slide his cock into her. Livia moaned again and bit the pillow as he slowly slid all the way in, grunting and moaning in ecstacy as he pushed forward inch by inch. The pressure of being sandwiched between him and the bed along with the angle made it feel like he might split her in half but she didn't complain; only arched her hips up as if urging him to go in even further.

"Livia," Trevor breathed, running one hand down her back and making her shiver. "My lovely Livia."

Then he began fucking her and she lost all sense of everything except the feel of his warm flesh filling her again and again. She felt his hands grip her hips and bring her backward with every thrust; her legs creaking in warning from the pressure but she was aware of no pain. If there had been any it was swallowed up by pleasure and soon she was turning her head aside to whimper and moan, her lips slack and her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Trevor was grunting with every thrust, shoving himself all the way in before drawing out only to ram forward again. On and on he pounded into her, battering into her like a wild animal caught in the frenzied need to breed. She didn't know how he was able to keep going like this but she didn't care, either. She just enjoyed the ride until her orgasm came and she let out another muffled cry of ecstacy, her toes curling as she arched her back and somehow lifted Trevor's heavier weight with her. Moments later, just as she was beginning to come back down, she heard him let out an almost painful-sounding cry and felt him cum too; the squashed angle making her close up tighter around him and letting her feel every twitch and pulse as he filled her with his thick seed.

Livia felt him jerk a couple of times until every drop had left him and then he was collapsing on top of her. She felt his cock slip out of her so suddenly that she actually heard a pop; like a cork being released from the neck of a bottle. Then his lips were trailing kisses along her shoulder blades, raising goosebumps all over her trembling back, and he gently caressed the now stinging flesh of her bottom; gently dragging the tips of his blunt fingers over the raised imprints of his hand.

"I'll never leave you again, darlin'," he whispered into the damp thickness of her hair. "I swear to God I won't." He kissed the freckle on her left shoulder and repeated, "Never again."


	37. Chapter 37

Trevor seemed happier now. Livia didn't think it was just her imagination or just the fact that she'd been more comfortable around him. Something had changed. Something about his demeanor seemed far more laid back than it had been previously. She was happy too, in a way; happy because he seemed happy. Most of that day was spent in a haze, the feeling of a weight lifting from her shoulders for the first time in a long time.

But, just like all good things, it wouldn't last. At around four that afternoon she was idly wandering around the house, doing the few domestic chores that needed to be done, and as she was emptying out her overnight bag onto their bed she spied a suspicious lump beneath her plain white t-shirt. When she lifted it to see the little throw away cell phone someone had hidden in her bag, the sight of it sent her ease and happiness hurtling aside and fear came to quickly take its proper place once again. There was even a charger cord there too, she saw; a length of plastic coated wire with a tiny brick at one end peeking out from under the change of pants she'd taken with her to Franklin's. 

She snatched the phone and its charger up off of the bed, looking behind her with her heart suddenly pounding in her ears, and giving a slow, shaky sigh of relief when she saw that she was still alone in the bedroom. Stuffing both objects into her pockets, she hurried into the bathroom and shut the door; locking it securely behind her before going to sit on the closed lid of the commode.

It was a flip phone, cheap and nothing like the nearly obsolete iFruit phone she'd had before, but so new that the smell of plastic emanating from it was still quite strong. With shaking hands she flipped it open to reveal the little screen and saw that it was fully charged and had at least three bars in the signal display. Then she noticed three messages from a contact listed with only one letter, **F**. Franklin must have set the phone on silent because she'd never heard a single message notification and she was thankful for his foresight. If Trevor had found this before she had... She forcefully shook her head, shoving that thought away; not wanting to even consider such a thing just now.

Opening the messages she read the first, _'I got u this so u will have a phone if u need one. My number is already programmed in it n so is M's and my homie L's...just in case'_

Then she read the second, _'Make sure u hide it somewhere T won't find. Don't leave it in ur pocket or sitting out somewhere. He might not understand y I gave it to u'_

Then the last message, _'Let me know when u get this n that ur ok'_

Livia felt the sting of tears in her eyes and whispered, "Franklin, you sneaky son of a bitch. Thank you."

With her heart pounding in her ears and her stomach already twisting into anxious knots, she quickly typed out her own message; her fingers flying over the buttons as she sniffled and chewed her lower lip.

_'I'm ok. Can't talk now but I'll call if I get a chance'_

She hit SEND and then realized that she'd forgotten something else she'd been wanting to tell him; something she should've said before ever walking out of his home earlier that day. She'd been wrong before to think that Trevor was the only person who cared because obviously that wasn't the case. Franklin also cared about her (for whatever reason), he'd literally risked his neck for her, and here he was doing it again. He'd been nothing but good to her and she'd been nothing but a headache for him. He deserved better than that and she felt ashamed of herself for everything he'd been through because of her. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Letting her fingertips dance nimbly across the tiny buttons once more, she typed, _'Thank you for being my friend'_. Her finger hesitated over the little green button for a moment before she quickly added, _'and I'm sorry for everything'_.

She hit SEND once more and then closed it with a snap. She had the perfect place to hide the phone, she just had to hope that she could get to it before Trevor popped up out of nowhere like some kind of demented Jack in the box and caught her in the act. Franklin had been right to worry that Trevor wouldn't understand; to think that it might anger him. It was just for emergencies, just in case things went to shit or (God forbid) he disappeared on her again, but the reality was that Trevor might not see it that way. If he found it or found out about her having it, sure, it could amount to nothing, but it might draw even more suspicion or possibly even trigger another jealous outburst and that was something she had to safeguard against at all costs. Livia had no intention of calling Frank to hang out again any time soon, wouldn't endanger him any more than she already had, but she would keep this last little gift from him. She would hide it just to have it if she needed it; not to chat with him out of boredom or whatever. Even though she thought she might never actually get to use it again, it was comforting to know that lifeline was there; to know that she had someone she could count on to have her back if worse came to worst.

So, thinking this, she stuffed the cheap square of plastic back into the pocket of her baggy Capri pants and gave the toilet a flush. Then she ran her hands under the tap a moment in an attempt to fool whoever might be standing outside. She hurriedly opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom, giving the bedroom a quick scan to make sure she was still unobserved as she made her way to the closet. There was a big winter jacket in there that Trevor had brought from his trailer and it had so many pockets that she could easily hide her lifeline in there without fear of it being discovered. It would be safe enough, she hoped, concealed in this coat made to withstand the raging tempest of winter storms; an ugly, puffy thing made of water resistant fabric and filled with goosedown. It hardly ever rained in Los Santos and it sure as hell wasn't going to snow any time soon. It wasn't the worst place to hide something in a pinch, anyway.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

At around sunset Livia was washing up the dishes while Trevor smoked a bowl at the little wooden table in the adjoining dining room. Wade sat with him, listening to him telling stories about how things had been back when he was a young man just getting started in 'the game', when he suddenly said, "Holy shit, I can't believe I forgot. Livia!"

Livia wasn't listening, she was off in her own world, humming along to a good song on the local reggae station coming from the cracked little radio sitting on the counter and so she jumped and almost dropped a plate when Trevor shouted her name again. She spun around, her heart beating quite a bit faster than it had been before, and asked a little too loudly, " _What_?!"

Trevor raised an eyebrow at her as his lips spread into a teasing grin. "You shouldn't talk to me like that, sugarpie," he said, standing from the table and coming closer to where she stood at the sink, "Not unless you want another spanking."

Livia blushed and her eyes slid away from his. She certainly didn't want that, her backside was still mildly sore from earlier and it would be downright painful now, so she said, "Sorry, I...I didn't mean to shout. I just wasn't listening."

Trevor shrugged and said, "No biggie." He came even closer, stopping just in front of her, and lifted his hands to settle them on her shoulders as he looked down into her eyes. "I was just gonna tell you that there was something important and I forgot all about it."

Meeting his dilated eyes with her own again, she asked, "What's that?"

"Oh...nothing," he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he brought his face down until they were almost touching noses. "Just a great idea I had. Do you...uh...do you mind if I ask you to stay here with Wade for a little while? I won't be gone long. No more than an hour, I promise."

Livia chewed the inside of her lip and gave a shrug, careful to keep her voice light, "Well...I guess so. As long as it's not too long."

He kissed the tip of her nose with a loud smack and then stood up straight. "Not too long," he agreed, seeming overjoyed. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Then he was gone, out of the house so fast that she thought she heard the glass crack in its frame as he slammed the front door behind him. She gave a sigh and looked over at Wade. She lifted her hands in a 'what now?' gesture and he only shrugged back at her and turned his mouth down at the corners as if asking, 'how the fuck should I know?'. So Livia just turned back to the dishes and hummed along with another song on the radio. Damn but they were playing some good ones tonight.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She waited until he had been gone for ten full minutes before she made her way to the master bedroom and into the closet. This was the best chance she'd get and there was no way of knowing if she'd ever get another. Trevor had said an hour maybe, so she was pretty confident that she had enough time to make a call to Franklin and have the phone stashed again long before Trevor walked through the front door.

Livia dug the phone out and made her way into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Going to sit on the commode once more, she opened the phone and found her contact list. Frank's was the first number and she hit the CALL button before pressing it anxiously to her ear.

It rang a total of three times before Franklin's voice came through on the other end. "Hello? Livia?"

"Hey, Frank," she said. "Just wanted to call and see how you're doing."

"Shit, I'm alright," he said, clearing his throat. "Little sore but I've been through worse. I was more worried about you. How are _you_ doing?"

"I'm okay," she replied.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," she told him, chewing on her lip at the doubt she could hear in his tone. "I talked things out with Trevor and he was really upset about what happened but...I guess he's alright now. He's real sorry for what he did to you, though."

Franklin was silent for a long moment but she could still hear him breathing so she knew that the call hadn't been disconnected. She wondered what he was thinking, if maybe he'd decided to be mad after all, but then he gave a sigh and said, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Are you mad at him?"

Franklin was silent again and she started to get worried before he finally answered, "No...I mean, I'm not happy about it but I'm not really mad, either. I've known him long enough to know how he is."

She was the one who paused this time, chewing her lip even harder. "Are you mad at me?" she asked, feeling the prickle of tears in her eyes.

His answer was much faster this time, "No. Why would I be mad? You didn't do shit to me."

Livia felt a tear slowly course down her left cheek and she absently wiped it away. "I shouldn't have been there," she told him, her voice wavering a little on the last word. "I could've stayed at home and waited. It's my fault you were in that position in the first fucking place. I knew Trevor could get crazy-jealous like that. I should've known he would -"

"No," Franklin interrupted, his voice coming through louder as if he had the phone pressed much closer to his mouth. "Stop looking for ways to put the blame only on yourself. Maybe we both should've been thinking about shit a little more clearly but we didn't do anything wrong. Trevor's the one who popped off and made something out of nothing." She heard him sigh heavily and then, "Am I making any fucking sense to you?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding along. She still couldn't phathom why Franklin cared at all - maybe it was just a pity thing - but obviously it was a lot more than she ever would've guessed. Even after all this he was unfailingly, unflinchingly kind; something she had very little experience with. "Yeah, you're making a lot of sense. I...I just feel really bad. You've been such a good friend to me and I...I've been nothing but a big pain in the ass for you."

He scoffed at this, "Nah, not really. You're a cool lady, you know? I mean, shit, it's not every day you meet a white chick who can roll joints better than a nigga from South Central...or tame out-of-control homicidal maniacs with abandonment issues, either. You...you're a rare breed of crazy, Livia. How couldn't we be friends?"

Something about this struck her as funny and she laughed behind one hand until tears were rolling down her cheeks. After a moment she stopped long enough to suck in a much needed breath and wiped at her eyes, "That's pretty fucking funny. I didn't know you were a comedian, Franklin."

"Yeah," he said, chuckling a little himself. "Guess you didn't know I'm headlining at the Split Sides Comedy club this Saturday night."

"You're really not mad at Trevor?"

"Nah," Franklin said with a sigh, the laughter gone from his voice now. "I'm really not."

"Thank you," she said, suddenly serious again. "Thank you so much, Frank."

"For what?" he asked.

"For being you," she said, smiling and wiping at her eyes one last time. She paused to clear her throat and said, "Look, I gotta go. He said he'd be gone for maybe an hour but I don't really know when Trevor will come back."

"Yeah, alright," Franklin agreed quickly. "We better hang up, then. Just text me whenever you get the chance. I wanna know you're doing okay once in a while."

"Okay," she said, nodding once even though it wasn't like he could see her. "When I can, I will. Later, Frank."

"Later, girl. Take care of yourself."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Ah, there you are, my dear," Trevor said, announcing his presence as he came through the front door; smiling at Livia wide enough to show almost every tooth in his head. "Miss me?"

She muted the television and stood from the sofa, noting that he had his left hand stuffed into his pocket. "Where did you go?"

Trevor came to the end of the couch and stopped, his dark eyes sparkling with merriment as he said, "Nowhere special. Com'ere, darlin'. I got a surprise for you."

She stepped toward him, cautiously hopeful that it would be a pleasant surprise instead of someone's heart or possibly an eyeball he'd plucked out of the head of someone who had displeased him.

"Yeah? What is it?"

Trevor mock scowled at her and cocked his head to one side in a playful manner, "If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise now, would it? Just come here, Livia."

She did as he asked and came to stand directly in front of him, "What?"

His smile reappeared as his voice became a childish kind of sing-song tone, "Stick out your hands and close your eyes and then you'll get your big surprise." Then, in his normal way of speaking but clearly impatient, "Come on, come on!"

Livia looked up at him for a moment and the excitement on his face made him look as though he was going to start dancing from foot to foot if she didn't comply soon. Letting out a deep breath she hadn't been aware of holding, she finally dropped her guard and obeyed his instructions. She felt him press something into her waiting hands, something square with soft edges; an object that confused the hell out of her.

"Go ahead, Livia," Trevor said, sounding almost breathless with anticipation. "Have a look."

She opened her eyes and looked down to see an object that was maybe five inches on each side and covered with some soft royal blue material that felt like velvet but probably wasn't. After examining it for a long moment, turning it this way and that, she recognized it for what it was; a fucking jewelry gift box. Livia's head jerked up to look at Trevor, her eyes wide and confused and her skin at least two shades paler than normal.

Now the look in his eyes didn't seem as happy as before, his eyebrows drawn together in an expression of slight worry probably caused by her reaction. Maybe he'd expected her to squeal with delight, open it immediately and gush about how gorgeous whatever lay within was, but she only looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights...like she might run screaming from the room any second.

"Open it," he said, his voice thick with mixed emotions. "See what Uncle T got you."

Livia looked back down at the box and pried it open with trembling fingers. The first thing she saw was the little strip of black silk sewed into the top portion of the box with the Vangelico logo embroidered on it in gold script. Then she saw the ring nestled in its little bed of crushed blue velvet and her mouth dropped open.

She had to blink several times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating or possibly having a mini stroke of some kind. But, no, it was still there every time she opened her eyes again; glittering at her like some shiny mirage out in the middle of the desert. It was a ring with a big red stone in the middle that appeared to be a genuine ruby. It was set in white gold and bracketed on either side by perfect quality diamonds that were at least half the size of the center stone. The band was also white gold and, as she delicately pinched the ring out of its box with two fingers, she saw that on the inside there was a word engraved into the bottommost portion of the heavy band. She saw with little surprise that the word was **FOREVER**.

Livia looked up at Trevor and had to swallow past the lump in her throat, her heart pounding so hard that she could feel it in her temples. She tried to speak but she couldn't seem to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. She could only look at him, confused and slightly alarmed.

"What's wrong?" Trevor asked, the anxious, tortured expression on his face one she hadn't seen from him before. "Don't you like it? I got a ruby because that's your birthstone."

Livia drew in a huge breath through her nostrils and finally found her voice again, "What...what is this?"

"It's a ring, you numbskull," Trevor said with a half-hearted laugh. "You weren't living under a rock when I met you so I'm pretty sure you've seen one before."

"No," she said, shaking her head and feeling her face growing hotter by the second. "What is it? Is this..." She had to force her next words out with tremendous effort, hardly able to believe that she was saying them, "Is this meant to be an engagement ring?"

Trevor's eyes widened a little and suddenly she felt cool relief wash over her. He hadn't meant it that way. Now it made sense. Men didn't give you an engagement ring like this. They got down on one knee, surprised you with a candlelit dinner, fancy wine and rose petals scattered all around. They didn't propose like a fifth grader sharing his last Meteorite Bar with you. At least, not a normal man, anyway. 

"N-no," Trevor stuttered, obviously flustered. "Not really. Is that..." He suddenly cleared his throat and his eyes searched hers for understanding before he finished, "Is that what you want?"

"No!" she gasped and from the way he frowned she thought maybe she'd answered too quickly. So she tried to soften the blow, to explain herself without hurting his feelings unnecessarily. "I mean, I'm still married to Paul. You can't get engaged to someone else while you're already married, can you?"

Trevor shrugged his shoulders as his frown melted away, "Fucked if I know. I wasn't proposing to you, darlin'. I didn't mean it like that. This is just something that I wanted to give you. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. I picked it out for you while I was gone those three days. They said the engraving would take a day but I kinda forgot about it until earlier."

Livia looked down at the ring in her hand and then back up at him, "This...this is too much. I can't accept this."

Trevor's frown reappeared, "The fuck you can't. Do you have any idea how much a thing like that cost? I could've bought a used car for what I shelled out on that shit. Besides, those snooty assholes probably wouldn't let me return it if I tried. Even if they did they might only give me store credit."

Livia shook her head and said again, "It's too much. What if I lose it or a stone falls out?"

"Then I'll buy you another one," he said, his frown clearing slightly. "I'm a fucking millionaire, remember?"

"Still..." she said, biting her lower lip with uncertainty as she looked down at the ring sitting on her palm.

"Don't worry," Trevor told her, reaching up to cup her chin with one hand and lifting her head until her dark blue eyes met his once more. "You're not going to lose it and a stone's not going to fall out."

"I don't deserve it," she told him, whispering without being aware of it. "I don't deserve something as nice as that."

Trevor's hand tightened on her flesh but his grip wasn't painful as he said, "Yes, you do, Livia. You deserve all the nice things this world can throw at you." He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly on her slightly puckered lips, "And I intend to be the starting pitcher."

He released her and she looked down at the ring again, chewing her lips and tasting Trevor there; still thinking that she didn't deserve it. Could never do anything to deserve something so pretty and expensive. She felt his hand slide over hers to remove the ring from her upturned palm and then he was holding out her left hand, slipping the ring onto her finger...the same finger that had sported her wedding band for over a decade.

"Michael said I'm not the marrying type," he told her, his voice so low that it was hardly above a whisper. "And he's probably right, I'm probably never going to get married. But if I did..." He looked into her eyes again and she could see an odd sort of hopeful look in them; a hopeful look that hadn't been there in a very, very long time. "If I did," he said, smiling a little now; a crooked grin that broke her heart with its vulnerable beauty. "I would want to get married to you."

Livia felt her eyes well with tears as she pressed forward to kiss his mouth and then lean her forehead against his. "Thank you, Trevor," she whispered back, closing her eyes. "It's absolutely lovely."


	38. Chapter 38

Two days later they were sitting on the sofa watching a movie when Trevor got a call from Michael. She only heard one side of the conversation, sitting there next to him on the couch with his arm slung over her shoulders as a dumb horror movie played out on the screen in front of her, and she couldn't make much sense of what he was saying anyway. She drifted in and out, only hearing bits and pieces over the screams of dying teenagers as a man in a mask ruthlessly butchered them one by one. She probably could've heard more if she'd been able to focus a little but she was still feeling spacey after smoking a fat joint in the backyard half an hour ago.

She did catch the last bit of the conversation quite clearly, however; Trevor's jovial manner capturing her full attention. "Allll rightey, Mikey," he said, drumming the blunt tips of his fingers on one bent knee. "Me and the little lady will be there with fucking bells on. Tell your wife thanks for the invite and not to worry. With God as my witness, T-Revor is going to be on his best behavior."

He hung up and stuffed his phone back into his pocket, giving a short bark of laughter and shaking his head. He sat back again, slinging one arm around her shoulders and getting comfortable once more. Livia watched him for a moment, waiting for him to share details with her, but he just went right back to watching the movie and tugging at his crotch; seemingly unconcerned by her stare.

She gently elbowed his side and asked, "You're not going to tell me what you guys were talking about?"

His eyes turned to look at her as he shrugged, "Michael's wife invited us to dinner at their house tomorrow." He chuckled a little and shook his head before adding, "I honestly never would've expected that in a million years. I know for a fact that Amanda hates my fucking guts."

"Dinner at Michael's house?" she repeated. That was certainly unexpected. "Why would she invite us if she hates you as much as you say?"

Trevor grunted in amusement and grabbed his pack of Redwoods; taking his time to light a cigarette. On the exhale he finally answered, "Fucked if I know, darlin'. Although, if I had to guess, I'd say it's because Mike's loose lips let slip that I'm no longer a single man...and no doubt she's curious about the kind of woman who managed to reel me in." He gave a little high-pitched giggle and took another drag from his smoke, his eyes turning back to watch the mindless slaughter on TV. "I can't wait to see what she thinks of you."

••••••••••••••••••••••••

A little over twenty four hours later they were pulling up to a huge, lavish Spanish-style mansion. It looked like something out of a lifestyle magazine, the boring kind that you impatiently flipped through in the doctor's waiting room, and Livia's first thought was that they must have gotten lost. But, as Trevor pulled up even farther into the driveway rather than reversing to turn around, she realized that this was really Michael's house and whispered, "Are you fucking kidding me? _This_ is his house?"

"Yeah," Trevor said with a smirk as they coasted to a stop in front of the closed garage door. "Fuckin' gaudy, ain't it? And it's still only half as big as his ego."

It was rather obscenely expensive but she still thought it an unkind thing to say. "Not exactly how I would've described it but...yeah," she said with a nod.

Suddenly she felt underdressed in her pale blue dress and low top sneakers. She'd just thrown her hair into a ponytail and washed her face before calling it good but now she wondered if maybe she should've tried to make herself a little more presentable. A little mascara probably wouldn't have killed her.

At least Trevor had managed to clean up well, she thought. Freshly shaven, smelling of cologne and wearing a brand new dark red flannel shirt paired with jeans so crisp that they still had creases in the legs...he looked about as good as he was ever going to get. He could never really be called a handsome man by any stretch of the imagination but he didn't look so much like he'd slept on the street somewhere, either. She supposed in the end it didn't really matter much. If Amanda was the type of woman who cared more about appearances than anything else, there was never a chance that they would've gotten along anyway.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Trevor asked, taking her soft hand in his much rougher one as he noticed the slight frown turning down the corners of her mouth. "Don't tell me you're nervous."

Livia shrugged and lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck as if to work out some of the tension there. "Maybe a little," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "But it's just because it's always kinda weird meeting someone new, you know? Guess I'm not really the outgoing type...I never have been."

"Yeah," he said, squeezing her hand in his. "Well, don't worry about it. We'll eat their food, drink up all their alcohol, and pretend we're whiney, latte-drinking douchebags just like them. Won't that be fun?"

Livia cracked a real smile at this and squeezed his hand back, "If you say so."

Michael was the one to answer the door after Trevor rang the bell. Holding a glass full of some dark amber liquid that smelled like whiskey in one hand and an unlit cigar in the other, he stepped back and gave them a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "There you are," he said, his slightly slurred words hinting that this was probably his second or third drink of the evening. "Was starting to think you didn't like your old pal Michael anymore."

Trevor took Livia's hand in his once again as he stepped through the door; pulling her along in his wake. "Said we'd be here, didn't I?"

"Come on in," Mike said, taking a drink from his glass before shutting the door behind them. " _Mi casa_ , etcetera, etcetera."

Trevor stopped next to the tile and brick stairwell leading to the second floor. "Where's Jimmy and Tracey? They here?"

Michael came to stand just behind them, "Tracey's out with some friends somewhere..." He shrugged and took another drink before giving a sigh, "Doing whatever the hell it is she does and Jim -"

"Yeah! Suck on that, bitch!" interrupted a loud voice from somewhere upstairs. "How you like the taste of that?!" This was followed by a burst of impish post-adolescent laughter and then a cry of what Livia could only assume to be sweet victory.

She saw a look of irritation pass over Michael's face and jumped a little when he suddenly shouted toward the stairwell, "Jim, shut your goddamn door! I told you we're having company tonight!"

"Sorry, Pop!" the young man called back. A second later they heard a door upstairs slam shut. They could still hear most of the shit-talking and laughter going on up there somewhere but at least it was muffled now; less intrusive.

Michael grunted and shook his head. Turning to look at Livia, he seemed mildly embarrassed as he said, "Excuse my boy. He's...a bit enthusiastic when it comes to those video games."

Livia lifted one shoulder in a shrug and smiled, "No need to apologize. We were all young once."

Michael gave a humorless snort and then a voice on the other side of the room said, "Oh, hello! You must be Livia."

Livia turned to see an attractive woman in her mid-forties with brown hair pulled back in a bun and blue eyes that were several shades lighter than Livia's own. Dressed in a simple black off-the-shoulder dress and high heeled boots, she looked chic and youthful; belying the faint age lines bracketing her mouth and laddering her forehead.

She smiled at Livia and extended one manicured hand. "Hi, I'm Amanda De Santa. It's so nice to meet you."

Livia took her hand and answered her smile with one of her own as she shook it, "Livia Wallace, pleased to meet you. Thank you so much for inviting us over tonight."

Amanda released her hand and said, "When Michael told me about you I just had to meet the woman crazy enou-" She stopped and a faint blush appeared, highlighting her cheekbones in a way that makeup could never imitate perfectly. "I mean, I just had to meet you."

Livia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud at this when Trevor finally spoke up beside her. "What? No warm greetings for me? I have to admit that I am _hurt_ , Mandy."

The lines in Amanda's face deepened and the look of disgust and fear she tried to suppress was enough to tell her that Trevor hadn't been joking before. This woman despised him and Livia, knowing all too well how he was, thought she probably had good reason.

"Hello, Trevor," Amanda said, the phony smile that twisted her lips doing nothing to conceal her true feelings. "You look...well."

Trevor laughed at that, "You, too. I can see all that Botox is really working out for you."

Livia saw Amanda's eyes narrow in anger and the painted line of her lips suddenly harden but her husband was quick to get between them. "Hey, hey, let's eat, huh?" Michael said, giving an uncomfortable laugh as he stepped forward to put an arm around Amanda's shoulders and squeeze. "We don't want the food to get cold now."

Amanda turned away from Trevor and smiled at Livia once more but it was easy to see the strain of Trevor's presence already wearing on her. "I hope you like Italian," she said, taking Livia's arm in hers and leading her into the kitchen directly ahead of them. "We ordered from Giorgio's."

Livia nodded and returned the smile, "Oh, that sounds wonderful." She didn't know what the hell Giorgio's was but the smell coming to her from the kitchen was already making her mouth water so she didn't really care, either.

So without further discussion they all sat down together in the De Santa's dining room and dug into their meal. With fried squash blossoms, tortellini, saltimbocca, and lasagne, Amanda had gotten enough for the four of them to have a literal feast. Livia helped herself to a bit of everything but ended up thinking that the squash blossoms and tortellini were the best. Trevor and Michael were mostly silent, eating heartily while the women loosened up a little and began to talk. Amanda asked about what she'd done for a living, Livia asked about Michael and Amanda's children. Amanda told Livia about Michael working with Solomon Richards and Livia told Amanda about the house that Trevor bought; so on and so forth. It was all meaningless, getting-to-know-you shit but Livia enjoyed it nonetheless.

When they were all done eating, Michael asked Trevor if he'd like to have a drink and Amanda asked Livia if she would like a cup off coffee to which they both answered in the affirmative. She helped Amanda clear the table and then they chatted some more while the coffee was brewing. With their cups in hand, Amanda asked if Livia would like to take it outside and drink on the patio. She agreed and wiggled her fingers at Trevor sitting on the couch sharing a much stronger drink with Michael; his dark eyes watching her closely as she went out the back door with Amanda.

She shut the door behind them and followed her out to the little patio table with an umbrella sprouting from the center; providing some measure of shade from the declining sun. She sat in the chair next to Amanda's, smiling back at her when she saw Amanda's openly curious gaze on her. She took a moment to sip at her coffee again before she turned to the older woman and said, "Thank you for dinner. It was excellent."

Amanda waved one hand as if to dismiss the compliment but seemed pleased by this. "Oh, it was nothing," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. "I'm glad you enjoyed it...and that I didn't have to cook it."

Livia chuckled and nodded in sympathy. She was happy that they'd come here and that Amanda had been gracious enough to invite them. She didn't know Michael well enough to form a concrete opinion about him but his wife was nice enough, anyway. It was good to be here feeling at peace with a full belly and a light breeze ruffling the hem of her dress. Good to feel somewhat normal again even if she knew it wouldn't last.

They sipped their coffee in silence for a while, watching the clouds slowly shift in golden and rosey hues as the sunset deepened into twilight. She was about a third of the way through her coffee when Amanda turned to her and said, "I hope I'm not prying but I gotta ask. What in the hell are you doing with Trevor? You seem so... _nice_. I mean, don't get me wrong, Michael's no saint but I'm almost totally convinced that that... _thing_ he calls his friend is the Antichrist. What could you possibly see in him?" She tilted her head slightly as her eyebrows lifted in an incredulous expression and she leaned forward, whispering now as if sharing a secret of her own, "Is it money? 'Cause I gotta tell you he's not the only man with money, sweetie. There are richer ones...shit, at least better looking ones, anyway."

Livia felt a sweat break out on her forehead, just below her hairline, and she had to look away from Amanda's unsettlingly direct gaze. "I...I don't know," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "I can't explain it away in just a sentence or two." Thinking back on her first conversation with Franklin when he'd begun to question their relationship, she said, "It's complicated."

Amanda drew back a little, perhaps thinking that she had offended her, "Well, you certainly don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I probably shouldn't have asked. I...I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Livia returned. "It's okay. It's just..." She sighed and set her coffee cup down on the glass topped table. She didn't know what to say, her hands working at each other in her lap, and she could feel her face turning red with shame and humiliation as she tried to keep herself from bursting into tears.

She felt the soft touch of Amanda's hand on her arm and then her voice, low; confidential. "You can tell me anything," she said. "I'm not going to judge you. I promise you, honey. This is a safe place."

It was only then that Livia began to speak, starting with that first day when he'd taken her from the gas station and then onward from there. The more she tried to explain the more she confused herself, struggling to find the right words to describe what had happened and all the things that had gone on between them to bring them to this point. She didn't want to shock the woman or give her nightmares so she tried to give her the short version, edited for time and content; turning something rated R into a more friendly PG-13 version. Of course Amanda was horrified anyway but from the look in her eyes Livia could tell that she'd known or guessed at least some of it on her own. She told her everything, filling in all those bothersome little blanks for her whether she wanted it or not, and by the time she was done talking she couldn't even look at Amanda anymore. She only stared down at her hands clasped together in her lap as all the words of her hollow recitation finally dried up; feeling nothing but low-grade fear and sorrow when her tale came to an end.

Amanda sat there silent for a long moment digesting all the words that had been hurled at her in the span of only fifteen minutes or so, her half cup of coffee cold and forgotten beside one elbow. Finally, she said, "Oh. Oh my. You poor thing."

Livia gave a humorless grunt and said, "Yeah. Poor me."

"I always knew Trevor was a soulless bastard but this...this is completely fucked up." Amanda's voice changed, becoming sharper; angry, almost. "Did Michael know about this?"

"Not all of it," Livia said, giving a shuddering sigh. "Probably not even half of it."

"And you don't have anyone else?" she asked, her voice softening again; pitying her again. "No family, no friends?"

Livia slowly shook her head, "Franklin's my friend but after what happened last time...I couldn't live with myself if something bad were to happen to him because of my foolishness. Trevor's pretty much all I've got now. Well...him and Wade, I guess."

"What about a women's shelter?" she asked, her perfect eyebrows arched up into a look of concern that Livia didn't see. "There are places that can help you get away from him."

Livia actually managed a laugh at this, though it was bitter and without any real humor. "If you think that he wouldn't do everything in his power to find me again then you don't know Trevor as well as I thought you did."

"You poor thing," Amanda said again, sounding at a loss for anything else to say. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," she said, reaching up to wipe away the single traitor tear that rolled down her left cheek. "Yeah, so am I."

" _Livia!_ " That was Trevor's voice from somewhere behind her, the suddenness of it making her hunch her shoulders defensively; guiltily. " _What'cha doin', sweetheart?! You gonna stay out here forever?!_ "

She turned around and waved one hand, forcing herself to smile and hoping that the distance between them was enough to hide the pain that was evident in her eyes. "Be right there!" she called back at him, already getting up from her chair.

No more than twenty minutes later and it was time to go. As they headed for the door Amanda took her arm again and said, "We'll have to have lunch sometime, just us girls. How's that sound, Livia?"

She smiled back at the older woman and nodded, "Sure, that would be nice."

But it was bullshit and she knew it the moment she agreed to it. Amanda didn't seem like such a bad sort (a little shallow and self-absorbed, maybe...but that wasn't a rare thing in Los Santos and Livia had met far worse) yet she knew damn well that any plans they made would never come to fruition. Amanda could garner all the pity she wanted to for Livia's situation but she wasn't a stupid woman. She wouldn't want the kind of headache that any friendship between them would bring and she definitely didn't want to invite Trevor into her life any more than he already was. Livia couldn't blame her, really. Who could? 

Walking back to the truck with Trevor, Livia only felt a little sad and empty inside but when he smiled at her she smiled back just as easy. Maybe it was wrong and fucked up in so many ways that she couldn't even begin to count them but Trevor really was all she had now. There would be no more dinners with Amanda and Michael or sleepovers at Franklin's. There would be no one but him (and possibly Wade) to keep her company now...but it could always be worse.

If there was only one thing that her whole sorry fucking life had taught her, it was that things could always be worse.


	39. Chapter 39

The next afternoon Livia wanted to go grocery shopping so she hopped in the truck with Trevor and Wade and they took off to the nearest supermarket. She got everything she needed and the guys filled up the rest of the basket with garbage food she normally wouldn't waste a penny on...but it was Trevor's money so she didn't say anything. She just added a few snacks of her own because why the hell not? She liked potato chips and peanut butter cups just as much as anybody else.

Everything was going good until they were on their way back home and Trevor passed some guy on the road; driving just a little too close and nearly clipping his front bumper with the back end of the Bobcat. The man behind the wheel of the expensive Ubermacht SUV overreacted, stamping on his brakes and nearly causing another car to ram into his back bumper. There was a blare of horns from behind them and Livia looked back just in time to see the rapidly dwindling Ubermacht and the driver inside; a white man in a suit and tie giving them a death glare.

Then the SUV was following them and soon the man behind the wheel began driving like a complete idiot; tailgating their truck, blowing his horn, shaking his fist at them and screaming curses that they could clearly hear through the open windows. Trevor laughed as if he were delighted by this development and then immediately after he became hostile as well. He slammed on the brakes several times, speeding up and slowing down, now actively trying to get the guy to run into the back of them and fuck up his front end. This only pissed the guy off even more and when he was close enough Livia looked behind them again and could easily see how cherry red his face had become as he continued to scream even more obscenities and flipped them off.

Her heart was already speeding up because she knew that if the man in the SUV didn't stop acting so aggressive, Trevor would eventually get tired of playing with him and go apeshit again. So she did the only thing she could and attempted to diffuse the situation by laying one hand on the inked flesh of his hairy forearm and saying, "Please, Trevor, _please_. Just stop it, alright? Don't do this today." Then, grasping for anything that felt practical enough to deter him, added something so absurd it might've been funny under other circumstances, "We...we've got groceries in the back." 

But her plea fell on deaf ears for perhaps the hundredth time since she'd known him and he shook his head at her without ever glancing away from the road or the man following them. "This cocksnot's the one starting shit," he said, his upper lip curled into a snarl as his eyes flicked back and forth between the rearview mirror and the road. "I'm just having a little fun with him."

Wade was turned almost all the way around in his seat, watching the man in the SUV as he continued to follow them. "He doesn't look like he's havin' too much fun, Trev," he said, aware of the possible danger just enough to sound mildly uneasy. "He doesn't look like he's havin' fun at all."

"Yeah?" Trevor asked, his eyes constantly shifting again and again. "That's so?"

"Yeah," Wade replied, obviously not catching on to his sarcastic tone. "He looks _real_ mad."

Not too long after this exchange they were slowing down for a red light and the man in the SUV pulled up beside them on the passenger side. Livia looked over, unable to help herself, and then something was hurtling through the air toward her; moving so fast that it was only a blur of color. She gave a shrill cry as something hit her and splashed freezing cold liquid all over her; dousing her from the top of her head down to her knees. At almost the same time as she was realizing what had happened, she heard the man scream triumphantly, " _FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!!!_ "

She looked down to see that both she and Wade were covered with brown goo and let out a sound of mingled surprise and disgust. Then she tasted whatever it was on her tongue at the same time she saw the damaged to-go cup on the floor by her feet and was relieved a little. He hadn't thrown a cup of chilled shit, only a mostly melted chocolate milkshake. Even though the guy might've been aiming at Trevor, he was the only one in the truck that he'd actually missed.

She heard Trevor roar in sudden fury beside her and looked up again just in time to see him draw his gun from the waistband of his pants. He then aimed it at the man in the Ubermacht; leaning as far forward as possible to see past both of his passengers even as they tried to lean back and avoid the barrel of his pistol. She heard the man shout, "Oh shit!" and then he was stomping on his gas pedal and running the red light. Trevor growled again, infuriated that he had missed his chance, and did the same; almost ramming into a cab as the Bobcat's engine struggled to match speed with the high end vehicle.

Livia and Wade hung on for dear life as the Bobcat picked up more and more speed, running through intersections and weaving through traffic as the man in the Ubermacht ran from a fire he hadn't known he'd been playing with. The guy took a sudden right and almost spun out, giving them a few seconds to make up some of the distance they'd been rapidly losing. Then there was a shriek of tires and the SUV shot forward again, leaving long black streaks of burned rubber on the pavement behind it. Trevor slowed a little, taking the turn with much more skill, and then they were driving balls to the wall again. Charging through traffic where more horns blared and people swerved to avoid them, the Bobcat's speedometer needle continued to rise; the truck now shuddering warningly as they neared seventy five miles an hour.

Holding onto Wade's shoulder with her right hand and bracing herself against the dashboard with her left, Livia cried, "What in the fuck are you doing, Trevor?! Stop!! You're going to wreck us!!!"

"No, I'm not," he replied almost calmly, never letting his furious eyes lose sight of the SUV with his terrified target still inside. "I'm a great driver. I could be in the fucking Indy 500 if I wanted to so just chill the fuck out already. I promise you, sugarpie, this'll all be over before you know it."

Livia let out another breathless scream as they swerved around a bulky tow truck and streaked through another intersection; hauling ass and still trying to catch up. Moments later they were coming up on an entrance to the Los Santos freeway and the man attempted to enter it before apparently changing his mind at the last second; probably hoping to throw Trevor off his trail. But he had too much of a head start and Trevor didn't fall for it, never so much as twitching the wheel in that direction. 

They continued to follow the man in the Ubermacht until he suddenly turned into an alley and then he was out of sight. Livia heard Trevor whisper, "Trying to be sneaky, huh?" and then they were turning down the same alley, slowing a little to avoid ramming into the side of a convenience store. They just saw the break lights of the SUV disappearing around the corner to their left and then the Bobcat was accelerating again, charging down the littered alley like a pissed off bear.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Livia heard herself whispering, at first not knowing that it was her doing it. "Fucking _shit_. Shit, shit, shit."

"Shhhh," Trevor hushed her, smiling in that weird angry/happy way of his. "Everything's fine. We'll catch up with him and teach him a lesson he won't soon forget." He gave an angry chuckle and said, "Oh, yeah. It's gonna be fun stomping this turd's brains out."

Wade didn't miss a beat. "H-how's he gonna learn anything like that, T?" he asked, honestly sounding confused. "Don't a man need to, uh, keep his brains in his head so he don't forget somethin'?"

Trevor let out an irritated growl and now his face was red, too. "It was just a figure of speech," he snapped back at him. "So shut the fuck up, Wade."

And, for a wonder, Wade did. Now the only sound other than the roaring engine was Livia's frantically whispered cursing and half-coherent pleas again; speaking so fast that she could barely even understand herself. She was gripping Wade's bony shoulder so hard that it was surprising he didn't complain or try to pull away somehow. They took the corner at breakneck speed and then suddenly Wade was clutching at Livia as well. One thin hand wrapped around her wrist as his other braced his meager weight against the passenger door; his eyes squeezed shut just as tightly as hers were, his lips pulled down into a grimace of fear. 

They heard a loud, hollow-sounding bang somewhere up ahead and just as they finished rounding the corner she opened her eyes to see that the Ubermacht had finally come to a stop. Its front end had slammed into a dumpster at full speed and the hood was crumpled up like an accordion; smoke already drifting up from the badly damaged engine. She heard Trevor give an angry laugh of satisfaction and accelerated again as he piloted them down to the mouth of the alley where the SUV had ended up, hoping to catch the guy before he got out and ran for his life.

Trevor came to screeching halt just behind the Ubermacht and then he was setting the brake before unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out. Livia didn't have time to say a word before he was running up to the driver's side door and aiming his 9mm at him.

Not thinking about what she was doing, Livia slid across the seat and then hopped out of the Bobcat as well. She ran forward, catching sight of the guy holding his hands up and blubbering in fear. She heard Trevor shout, "You like throwing shit at people, huh? You think it's fucking funny or something?!"

Livia came up behind Trevor and said, "Don't do it!"

Without looking away from the man trapped behind the wheel of his flashy automobile, he said, "Get back in the fucking truck, Livia."

"I'm sorry," the guy was saying, his eyes streaming tears and his nose leaking two thick runners of snot already. "I'm fucking sorry, man! Please, don't shoot me!"

He shifted a little in his seat as if to somehow avoid the gun pointed at him and suddenly he shrieked in agony; the piercing suddenness of it raising the hackles all over Livia's shaking body. The man clutched desperately at his right leg, his fingers digging into the meatiest part of his thigh, and then he was alternating between moaning helplessly and sobbing hysterically. It only lasted a minute or so before the man seemed to catch his breath a little and started to speak again, panting as even more tears ran down his ashy complexion, "Oh. Oh, fuck, I think my leg's fucking broken. Please, please, for the love of God, call an ambulance. Oh God, please, it hurts so fucking bad."

"Serves you right," Trevor said, nodding and grinning that shark grin. "But you won't have to worry about your leg much longer so it kinda works out, don't it?"

The guy began to blubber harder than ever at this and she heard Trevor chuckle, knowing without a doubt that he was enjoying watching him break down completely. She didn't know if he really meant to shoot the man but he was definitely getting off on watching him squirm in pain and terror. It was like watching a cat play with a mouse. Suddenly she hated Trevor, really hated him for the first time since he'd taken her...but she was still afraid. So afraid and helpless in her own way. But she had to try, didn't she? She wouldn't be who she was without at least doing that much for this crying stranger.

"Trevor, y-you can't do this," she said, her voice pogoing up and down with emotion. "He's hurt really bad. Don't you think he's already suffered enough?"

Trevor shook his head, the barrel of the gun never wavering even the tiniest bit. "Get back in the goddamn truck, I said," he growled. " _Now_ , Livia."

Instead of obeying, she stepped forward and gently took his arm, still more afraid for this man than she was for herself, "Come on, Trevor. Don't do this. You know it isn't right."

He actually laughed at this, that crazy high-pitched, broken laugh that told her he knew no such thing. Just as quickly, his mood shifted again and his smile was gone, his dark eyes narrowing in determination. "It is if I fucking say it is," he snarled. Then he pulled the trigger.

Livia screamed as a little black hole appeared in the man's head and his brains exited the other side; spraying the passenger side of his SUV with gore. He fell back, his ruined, drastically changed head lolling on his neck as limply as a ragdoll's, and she kept screaming; scream after scream tearing loose from her chest so hard that they physically hurt her. Livia's hands came up to cover her eyes as if she could block it all out but she could still see it there behind her eyelids; that split second where the man's brains splattered the passenger side door replaying over and over. Trevor gave a disgusted sigh and stuffed his gun back into the back of his pants. He grabbed her arm, not even making an effort to quiet or comfort her, and marched her back toward the truck; completely ignoring her screams that rapidly dissolved into sobs of horror and loss. 

It didn't matter that she didn't know the man or that he'd been a dickhead and had therefore been 'asking for it', as Trevor would no doubt say. He was another person who had died for nothing, another person she couldn't save; another face that would haunt her forever. She only sobbed harder and harder as Trevor forced her back into the truck and then she was leaning her head on Wade's chest. She clutched him tightly with blind hands and he seemed startled at first but then he reached up to soothe her as best he could; holding her awkwardly as he patted her back with one hand.

"Goddamn it, Livia," Trevor said after he shut the door again and shifted into reverse, backing away from the dead man and his ruined vehicle. "I told you to get away, didn't I? Why can't you ever just listen to me when I tell you to do something?"

•••••••••••••••••••••

When they got home she immediately went to the master bedroom and then locked herself in the bathroom to cry some more. She wasn't sure how much time passed but her sobs had finally slowed to sniffles and the occasional hiccup before she heard a knock on the other side of the door.

Not lifting her head from her hands as she sat on the porcelain edge of the tub, she said, "Go away!"

Then came Trevor's voice, soft and barely audible, "Open the door, darlin'. I just want to talk to you."

"Go away!" She shouted, her anger suddenly flaring up without warning. "I have nothing to say to you!"

There was a long beat of silence and then, "Come on, just open the door."

Livia lifted her head, her hands balling up into small fists on her lap, "Fuck off, Trevor! Go away and...and just _leave me alone_!"

He gave the door a thump and it rattled in its frame, far too thin to be of any real protection to her. His voice had dropped a register and now he sounded pissed off as he said, "Open this fucking door right now or, I swear to Christ, I'll kick it the fuck in."

Not wanting to lose her only sanctuary in the whole house, she stood from the tub as he gave the door another even harder thump; the cheap wood ready to crack any moment. "Fine!" she yelled back at him, walking forward and wiping the mostly dried tears from her eyes. "Just...just give me a goddamned second!"

She undid the thumbolt and opened the door to see him looking down at her with a small smile on his face. "There," he said, rubbing one hand over his balding head. "That's better now, isn't it? We don't have to shout."

Livia's frown turned down the corners of her mouth more severely as she crossed her arms defensively across her chest, "What do you want?"

His smile slipped away as he stepped toward her and reached out for her with one hand, "Don't be like that, darlin'."

She flinched away from his grasping fingers and took a step back, "Be like _what_? Be mad because you murdered a man for no reason? What did you expect? Did you think I'd be fucking happy about it?"

"No," he said, giving a shrug, his eyes regarding her in a way she didn't much care for; looking at her as if he thought she had a screw loose. "I mean, not really but..." He shook his head and scoffed, "What the fuck do _you_ care? That guy was a prick of the highest order and you know it. I did the world a fucking favor, if you ask me."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Trevor," she said, pushing past him and heading into the bedroom. "I can't..." She stopped and stood with her hands buried in her hair, feeling as if she might actually be losing her mind. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you know how fucking crazy that is?"

"What?" he asked, following closely behind and sounding honestly confused. "You act like he was your fucking friend or something. You didn't even know the guy!"

Livia whirled around to face him, "You just don't get it, do you?! You can't just go around killing people because they made you mad! What gives you the right to be judge, jury and executioner? What...what if that were you? Would you like it if someone did the exact same thing to you?"

"No," Trevor said, his brows coming together in an angry look. "But I don't have to worry about that kind of shit happening to me because I'm not a fucking asshole. That guy could've left us alone but he didn't, did he? No, he chose to play tough guy and it wound up biting him in the ass. That's..." He gave a shrug and gestured vaguely with one hand, "That's just karma, darlin'."

Livia gave a laugh that made her sound almost as crazy as he was. "Oh!" she said, " _Karma_ , of course! I'm sure you're a regular little golden boy when it comes to karma, huh, Trevor?!"

Trevor's jaw clenched and she knew he was getting ready to start yelling at her. "I don't think I like your tone," he said.

"Yeah?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, tough fucking titty! I don't like it when you just start shooting people for no reason! So _there_!"

"He -"

"What? Said a few bad words and threw a milkshake into the car? I wasn't aware that kind of behavior justified blowing someone's fucking brains out!"

Trevor grabbed her by her shoulders and brought his face down close to hers, so mad now that he was shaking. When he spoke his voice was a breathless growl, a warning she chose not to hear, "I want this conversation to stop. _Right. Now_. Don't..." He put one hand on her face, whispering, "Don't make me do something we're both going to regret."

She wrenched herself out of his grip, her eyes sparkling with tears but burning with hatred at the same time as she stared up into his. "What? You gonna shoot me, too?" she asked, still scared and yet almost laughing, which would have been a very grave mistake indeed. Then in a near perfect imitation of him, her mood suddenly changed, shifting from furious anger into the deepest depths of blackest sorrow. "Go ahead! Just do it already! Fucking do it, Trevor, because _I can't take this anymore_!"

She stopped, gasping for breath as her hands came up to clutch at her chest, that dull knife blade of grief stabbing and twisting into her heart again, "You...you were right before, Trevor. There's no hope for you. All you do is hurt...hurt everyone around you." She gave a watery sob and dropped her head, her words leaving a bitter taste in the back of her throat as she continued, "I - I should've just let you take me to those people on the mountain that day, you know that? Going home with you was the worst mistake I've ever made in my whole fucking life."

Livia heard a pop and her head snapped to the right. Next thing she knew she was sitting on the floor, quite unaware of how she'd gotten there even though she knew on some level that she must've fallen. Her left cheek was stinging and she lifted one hand to touch it, her skin feeling hot beneath her cold fingers; now tasting blood in her mouth from where her teeth had cut into her cheek upon impact. He'd slapped her and pretty hard, too. Hard enough that her jaw felt loose and the stinging warmth of her flesh was growing worse by the second. She looked up at him, tears leaking from her eyes and her lower lip trembling uncontrollably; unable to speak at all now.

Trevor wasn't even looking at her. He was looking off to one side, his eyes far away; his mouth cramped down into a severe frown. "You should think about what you're going to say before you open your mouth like that," he said, his voice thick and unsteady. "Maybe...maybe that's why your family beat the shit out of you so much when you were a kid."

Then he left the room, leaving her to clasp her knees to her chest and sob until there were no more tears left in her.


	40. Chapter 40

Things had been different between them since the slap. She hadn't been too badly hurt, no, just a little cut on the inside of her cheek that had healed within a day and a big red handprint on the outside that had faded within an hour. But there hadn't been any attempt between them to make up and they hadn't even talked about what had happened. In fact, they'd hardly spoken to each other much at all.

Five days passed in which they kept a careful courtesy between them, talking only of inconsequential things, and both of them pretended as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It seemed much easier for Trevor than it was for her but Livia tried to keep a stiff upper lip; never letting him see her cry once since that night. She didn't bring it up and neither did he and she supposed that was probably best for now. She was afraid that if she said anything it would only make things worse and Trevor...well, she had an idea that he just wanted to forget about it altogether. Even though his cruel words after the slap had been a betrayal that hurt worse than the physical pain had, she didn't want him to know just how much it'd gotten to her. She didn't want to admit to herself how deeply it'd hurt (or how much it still hurt now) but that didn't mean she could just forget that it had ever happened. She couldn't do that even if she'd wanted to...nothing had ever been that easy for her.

The worst of it was that it seemed as though Trevor saw nothing wrong with what he'd done. And if he did, (which she doubted) he apparently had zero intentions of apologizing to her for it or trying to make amends in any way. She couldn't say she was surprised, though, could she? She'd always known what kind of man he was and had never lied to herself about Trevor's nature. She'd never really believed for a single moment that he could make some kind of miraculous turnaround and suddenly learn how to be a good man. She'd hoped he would eventually learn the error of his ways, of course she had, but she knew now that had been nothing more than naivety at its finest. Things were never that easy for anyone.

And why would he make an effort to change at all? Being self-serving and cruel had rewarded him so much that he had no reason to want anything different now. At his core Trevor was a creature of rage and impulse and he was guided by his own set of rules and ideas. A man in which the line between what he considered right and wrong could waver wildly from one extreme to another; not caring if it made sense to anyone else as long as it made some kind of sense to him. She still believed Trevor when he said he would never cheat on her (and maybe he'd even make good on his promise not to kill her and dine on her corpse) but to rape her or beat the shit out of her? He could and probably _would_ do that and still wear a smile on his face; actually enjoying her torment if she made him angry enough. It hadn't been so long that she'd completely forgotten what it'd been like in the beginning and lately those first few days she'd spent as Trevor's plaything seemed to be replaying in her mind a lot.

The memories, like little snapshots of hell, even followed her down into her dreams and there were times that they were all mixed up with her memories from the bad old days. Sometimes her brother was there or her parents or that greasy bastard Ray or even Paul. Worst of all, though, sometimes it was all of them together. There were times when they would just sit back and point and laugh and other times where they would actually join in, holding her down and goading him on; enjoying her pain and fear just as much as the man who currently claimed to love her. As the days wore on the nightmares progressed from bad to worse until she could sleep no more than four or five hours at a time. She always woke up tired and achy the next morning, leaving her feeling drained physically as well as emotionally. In just five short days the circles under her eyes went from a barely-there lavender to a deep, ugly bruise-purple; aging her in a way that might've bothered her if she'd been able to muster enough shits to give one about her appearance.

She thought of how he'd said he wouldn't hurt her anymore _if he could help himself_. But a man like Trevor could never help himself, could he? No. He just wasn't wired that way. It reminded her of that story of the woman who'd found an injured snake and brought it home with her. After she'd nursed it back to health the snake had ended up biting her and, as she lay dying, she'd asked the animal why he would do that even after she'd helped him. His reply had been more or less, 'I'm a fucking snake, lady. What did you think was gonna happen?'.

Even with the icy cordiality pushing them further and further apart, Trevor's nightly attentions hadn't waned in the slightest. He still took what he wanted, roughly or gently depending on his mood, and always seemed satisfied at the end. Last night he'd asked her what was wrong, perhaps seeing some of the sadness and hurt on her face. He'd asked if she hadn't enjoyed herself as well and she'd been quick to answer that she had...but it'd only been a half-truth. Trevor had accepted it but she could tell by how carefully his dark eyes had watched her that he sensed the change in her no matter how she'd tried to hide it. He'd always been scarily intuitive to her emotions and she'd never been that good at pretending. Maybe it was something in her eyes that gave her away, she wasn't entirely sure.

The whole truth was that the physical pleasure had still been there (despite her efforts to tamp it down or somehow ignore it altogether) but now she felt like crying every time he got close to her or touched her. It was even worse when he kissed her and told her that he loved her because, while he might still believe it, she was no longer certain. She was once again convincing herself that he didn't know real love, could _never_ know it, and her own feelings for him were suffering because of it. She knew that she was withdrawing; pulling away so that the next slap that inevitably came wouldn't hurt quite so much. At least not emotionally, anyway.

 _Just a fucking snake_ , she'd think after the pleasure was over and the pain came back; that pit of hopeless despair in her gut slowly yawning open wider and wider. Then, always in Trevor's laughing voice, seeming to mock her, _Whatd'ja expect, darlin'?_

She had time to reflect on everything that had happened (for maybe the millionth time) while sitting in the cab of the Bobcat across the street from the strip club that Trevor owned. Turning shit over and over in her head as if she could somehow make sense of it all. Finally she gave a frustrated growl and slammed her fist down onto her leg; barely feeling the pain that warmed her flesh there. She was tired of trying to figure it out, tired of trying to see a way to fix what was so badly broken, and turned her attention away from it all again; looking toward Trevor's club in the hopes of seeing him on his way back already.

His club was a charming little shithole with the bizarre name of Vanilla Unicorn. It was flashy, trashy and a magnet for lowlife scumbags; the kind of place that made her feel itchy just looking at it. She didn't like being here at all, not even across the street with it mostly hidden from sight. It made her uncomfortable and a little nauseated almost in the same way as when she tried to read a book while riding in a moving car. Her problem didn't lie with the women so much as the men, though. She understood that sometimes you had to work with what you had, use the few talents that God had given you, but she wasn't the kind of woman who could've taken off her clothes to pay the bills...not even when she was younger and she'd been somewhat confident in her looks. She probably wouldn't be able to get anywhere near that stage (and, oh shit, with all those eyes _watching_ her) without throwing up and then keeling forward to pass out in the mess she'd just made. She knew her own strengths and weaknesses, after all.

It was late, closer to midnight than eleven, and although she couldn't see the front of the club itself from her position here in the tiny parking lot of some electronics repair store, she could see a sign with purple lights spelling out the words 'Horny Girls' quite clearly. Her lips twisted in distaste and she quickly looked away again, wondering just how long she would have to wait before she could finally go back home and try to get some sleep. Maybe there'd be no dreams tonight and she'd wake up feeling rested tomorrow morning. Maybe things would make more sense with just a few hours of uninterrupted shut-eye under her belt... Hey, she had to have something to hope for, didn't she?

She gave a sigh and leaned her head against the window next to her, letting her eyes slip closed for a moment. It was stupid for her to be here. Absolutely pointless. The only reason he'd even brought her along was that he was worried she might try to take off on him...but she didn't understand why he would be afraid of that. She still didn't have anywhere else to go; the slap certainly hadn't changed that much, anyway. She could be home in bed right now, snuggled up with a joint and a book as he dealt with whatever trouble needed his attention so bad. She could be -

Livia heard a loud popping noise from across the street and sat up with a jerk, her eyes springing open as she turned her head to look at Trevor's club. There was a second or two of unbroken silence where she wondered if maybe she'd imagined that sound but it only lasted until she saw that the group of homeless people standing in front of the mission were also looking in the same direction. Motionless and waiting, their postures reminded her of rabbits who stand on their hind legs to watch for danger; their little pink noses twitching like mad when sensing a possible predator nearby. Then there were several more loud pops from inside the club and this time she couldn't kid herself that it was anything other than gunfire.

Livia felt like she could hardly breathe as she stepped out of the truck and onto the street; her nerves singing a high note of terror that had her shaking like a leaf already. Shutting the door behind her, she heard a loud bang - an explosion? - that made her jump a little and now the homeless people were fleeing the immediate vicinity of the strip club and throwing frightened looks back over their shoulders; the bottle they'd been passing around now lying shattered in hundreds of glittering shards on the ground behind them. She heard an impossibly high-pitched scream and then a flood of people came pouring out of the front door of the Vanilla Unicorn. Men and women were scattering in all directions; some of them barely wearing anything and some of them wearing more blood than clothing but all of them scared shitless. A few passed by close enough that she could clearly see the panic on their faces and she had to resist the urge to let fear take over completely and run away with them.

More people went by her and then Livia was forcing herself to cross the street. She was lucky that it was so late at night because she hardly even glanced in both directions to make sure it was safe before running across. She somehow managed to reach the other side unscathed before someone bumped into her and nearly knocked her down. The other person did fall, crying out in pain, and Livia looked down to see a young woman wearing a black g-string and a really cheap platinum blonde wig but little else. She saw the shine of fresh blood splashed up high on the woman's bare midriff and reached down to help her stand again without even thinking about it.

"What's going on in there?!" Livia asked, shouting to be heard over the gunfire coming from the club as well as the last of the fleeing patrons still running and screaming around them. "What happened?!"

The woman in the bad wig tore her arm out of Livia's grip and met her terrified blue eyes with her own equally terrified brown ones. "The fuck you think's happened? They're shooting up the place!" Stepping around Livia, she said, "I'm getting the fuck outta here!" Then she was off and running again; going pretty damned fast for someone wearing shoes that high.

Livia didn't spare her another glance and headed quickly in the direction of Trevor's strip club, still trying not to have a full-blown panic attack as she drew closer to the danger instead of doing the sensible thing and going in the opposite direction. She didn't know what she was doing, had no clear idea of why she was doing it, but something was telling her to go that way. It was stupid, she knew that, but it didn't stop her. She had to know what was going on. She had to see it for herself.

She was just rounding the corner when she saw a group of men standing in a rough skirmish line in front of the club; blocking the main exit to the parking lot. Livia let out a breathless moan of terror and froze in place, bringing one hand up to smother the noise. There were a dozen of them, maybe more, and all of them were wearing leather jackets showing patches on the back; pictures of an eagle in mid-flight with the words _The Lost MC_ stitched onto another patch above it. Once she realized who they were she began to backtrack immediately, trying to disappear before any of them noticed her, and managed to take all of four steps before she bumped into someone standing just behind her.

Livia turned her head, her neck creaking as loudly as an unoiled hinge, and looked up to see yet another man clad in black leather; a man with a gingery handlebar mustache and bright blue eyes that looked down at her with amused curiosity. She gave a gasp that might've been a scream just before his hand clamped down over her bicep and he asked, "What're you doing out here sneaking around?"

"Let go," she said, her eyes wide and her voice so small that she could barely hear herself over the gunfire still going off inside the club. "G-get away from me."

Another man in a leather jacket came over, this one short, fat and wearing a blue bandana on his head. "What'd you catch, Tater?" he asked, hitching up the back of his pants as he walked on slightly bowed legs. "Who's she?"

"Saw her getting outta that truck the asshole came in," the man with the ridiculous name of 'Tater' answered, his electric blue eyes never leaving hers. He smiled, exposing a gold tooth on the upper left side, and cocked one eyebrow, "Ooooh, you know what, Reggie? Maybe she's his girlfriend." His eyes ran up and down her body before coming back to rest on hers again, "She looks a lot like the one poor ol' Hicks told us about, anyway." His smile widened. "Cute, ain't she?"

"Let go," Livia repeated, trying to sound fierce and only sounding frightened and helpless. "You _really_ don't want to do this. Trust me when I say it's a bad idea." She glanced back and forth the men, hoping to somehow convince at least one of them, and only becoming more frightened by the undisturbed looks on their faces. "P-probably the worst one you've ever had."

They both laughed at this as if it were the funniest thing they'd ever heard and she made a split second decision to use this distraction, running almost entirely on instinct now. She swung her free hand at the one called Tater and he flinched backward at the last moment; barely avoiding her nails. But his surprise caused him to release her arm and Livia suddenly broke to the left, away from the men and toward the street; running for her life. She didn't know where she thought she was going but at the moment the only thing she cared about was getting away. She got halfway to the street before one of them snatched her ponytail up in his fist. There was a blindingly painful tug on her scalp as her head snapped back and then she was falling. 

She hit the concrete on her back hard enough to drive all the breath out of her at once. She lay there unable to draw any more air for a long, painful moment; her eyes bugging out as she desperately tried to suck air back into her screaming lungs. Then the paralysis in her chest cleared and she could suddenly breathe again; gasping like a drowning victim. She tried to get to her feet but then one of them were standing over her, reaching down for her with grimy hands. She gave a terrified cry and kicked out with one leg, connecting with his crotch in a lucky shot she never would've made if she'd actually been trying for it. She must've hit him pretty good because he cried, "Ah, fuck!" just before grabbing at his wounded testicles with both hands and falling to his knees.

She heard the one called Tater let out a laugh as his buddy fell over on his side and then he was grabbing for her. He caught hold of her arm and Livia screamed before lashing out at him as well. Her elbow struck his jaw in another lucky shot and Tater's laughter abruptly cut off. He let out his own cry of dismay and suddenly the pressure of his hand on her arm was gone. She scrambled to her feet, narrowly avoiding Tater's grasping hand as he made a swipe for the back of her shirt, and then she was running. Flying across the street, her feet moving so fast that they hardly seemed to touch the ground, she heard several car horns blare and at least two sets of headlights swept across her as drivers swerved and hit their brakes to avoid running her over. Then she hit the sidewalk and kept going; the wind generated from her movement leaving her ponytail streaming behind her like a sail. Her arms and legs were warming up to the work and she was still going strong when she heard footsteps behind her.

Livia glanced back over her shoulder to see the bad guy with the ridiculous name in hot pursuit and let out a breathless scream. He was no more than a step or two behind her and, as she faced forward again, she found a little more speed; pushing herself into a sprint and outdistancing him just enough to avoid his reaching hands. She'd made the block and was just stepping out into another street without looking when bright light hit her and she heard the sudden squeal of someone hitting their brakes. She felt something strike her knees and then she was flying up, screaming again before she hit the windshield with a crash of breaking glass that she thought was the sound of her bones being broken. Her body continued its ascent and she hit the roof with a bone-jarring thud; rolling once. Then she was falling, the world a blur of light and darkness around her, and hitting the pavement hard enough to send explosions of pain all down the right side of her body.

Livia tried to get to her feet again, knowing she had to get up and start running, but she couldn't do much more than lie there and writhe. The signals from her brain to the rest of her body were too badly scrambled at the moment and she knew the man who'd been chasing her had no intention of letting her recover. She finally managed to flip over onto one side, groaning as pain flared all through her again, and heard footsteps approaching her. She could make out the sound of Tater's harsh breathing, the telltale sign of a longtime smoker's rattle way down deep in his chest, and then she heard a car door opening.

"Oh my God, oh my God," came a man's voice; squeaky with panic and making him sound all of twelve years old. "Oh my God, I fucking hit her! I - I didn't mean to hit her! Oh shit! Oh fuck! I didn't fucking _see_ her!"

Livia flopped over onto her stomach and got a knee under herself despite the pain. Then she felt Tater's hand suddenly grip the tangled length of her ponytail and he brutally jerked her head up; sending a shrieking bolt of agony through her neck and shoulders. She screamed against the pain, fighting the sudden wave of darkness that threatened to sweep her away into unconsciousness, and reached up with both hands to dig her short nails into the hand holding her. She scratched and clawed and tried to pry his fingers loose; doing anything and everything in her power to make him let go. But her efforts were in vain because he only tightened her hair around his fist and yanked harder.

"Hey!" shouted the driver who'd hit her with what had felt like a fucking Mack truck. "What are you doing? _Stop that_!"

Tater jerked on her hair once more, drawing tears to her eyes as another bolt of pain shot through her neck, and reached into the waistband of his pants to pull out a huge .357 revolver. He pointed it at the driver and barked, "Get back in your car and get the fuck outta here, dickweed! You got til the count of three before I punch your fucking ticket for you!"

But Tater didn't even get past the count of one before she heard his car door slam shut. Then the driver was peeling out, making her cough and choke on exhaust fumes as he sailed off into the dark once more. She heard Tater chuckle for a moment, amused, and then his chuckle turned into a cough that made him hack up something from deep inside his chest; giving a grunt as he spit it to one side. Then he was hauling her up onto her feet and hooking one arm around her ribcage. Livia cried out again, in defeat as well as from the agony of being moved this time, and he began dragging her away from where she'd fallen. Her body was howling in pain from a dozen different places but she didn't think anything was broken and she was grateful for that much. But she felt weak and when she tried to plant her feet on the ground she couldn't even do that. Her legs were about as useful to her as if they'd been replaced by overstretched rubber bands.

"Let go of me," she said, her voice coming out gravelly and hoarse as she tasted blood in her mouth. "Get your fucking hands off of me."

"Don't talk," Tater growled back at her, dragging her even faster as his arm tightened around her ribcage and made her groan again. "Fuck a duck. You're lucky you're still breathing, you know that?" He gave an aggravated sigh and grunted from the effort of moving her along, "Dumb cooze. Maybe if you can keep your fucking mouth shut you can keep breathing a little bit longer." He squeezed her tight as they went over a bump and told her, "Once we clip your idiot boyfriend you're gonna want to play nice with us, believe me."

Livia tried to speak anyway, maybe to demand to be let go again or maybe just to tell him to go fuck himself, but the pain was too great and suddenly she was swooning down into darkness. Tater felt her go limp in his arms and only gave another sigh, lifting her up a little more as he continued dragging her back towards the strip club.


	41. Chapter 41

"I still can't believe the creepy motherfucker could do that," came a man's voice from the darkness on her right. She didn't recognize it but she thought he sounded keyed up; nervous. "How could he do that?"

"Are you sure it was him?" spoke a different man on her left. Somehow this one _did_ sound a little familiar. No name or face came to mind but Livia knew she'd heard that voice somewhere before. "Are you one hundred percent _certain_?"

"Well, I didn't get a chance to ask him his fucking name if that's what you mean but, yeah, he fit the description, anyway," the first guy replied, still sounding a little shaken up. He fell silent a moment, perhaps taking a couple of deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, and when he next spoke she thought she heard just a hint of admiration in his tone, "Man, that was some of the freakiest shit I ever saw. One minute he was there and the next..." There was the sudden sound of fingers sharply snapping together. "Fucking _gone_ , brother."

"You gotta be shittin' me, Vinster," the man with the familiar voice scoffed. "You make it sound like he's a...a goddamned _ghost_ or something."

"I don't care what you wanna call it," the first guy responded, sounding a bit defensive now. "He fucking disappeared into thin air, that's all I know."

The man on her left gave a tired sigh that turned into an irritable growl at the end. "This is not good," he said. "This is _really_ not good. Deke's gonna be fucking pissed."

Livia didn't realize for the first few minutes that she was awake and actually hearing these voices until the floor beneath her gave a sudden lurch and she became airborne for a second. Coming back down, she was unable to catch herself and there was a sharp flare of burning misery all down her right side. As the pain sucked all the breath out of her, she found herself trying to focus on anything else and heard the unmistakable rattle and wheeze of an old car around her. As the pain faded a bit she thought in her distracted sort of way that she must be in a moving vehicle. The vibrations beneath the left side of her body probably should've given it away before but for some reason she hadn't been aware of it until its brief absence. So...she was being taken somewhere. But by who? And _why_?

Breathing sharply through her nose and trying to stay calm, she opened her eyes again and blinked a couple of times but it was useless because she couldn't see a fucking thing. There seemed to be some kind of thick fabric covering her entire head and when she turned it to one side she could feel it cinched tight around her neck; blocking out all but a few dim flashes of light that she assumed to be passing streetlights. She then became aware of something over her mouth - probably duct tape - sealing her lips tightly shut so that she couldn't even think about trying to call for help. She attempted to reach up towards her face, maybe to pull the hood up or at least loosen it a little, but her hands wouldn't move, either. They felt dead and far away and as she tried to turn them she realized that they were tightly held together behind her back. It felt like a relatively thin band of plastic binding her and it was biting cruelly into the tingling flesh of her wrists; a zip tie, most likely.

Livia's body continued to ache like an infected tooth, most of the pain concentrated on the right side of her body, and she suddenly remembered being hit by a car driven by a man she'd never even seen. She had heard his voice, however, and now she could clearly remember the panic that had been in it as he'd said, ' _I didn't mean to hit her! I didn't even_ see _her_!'.

Everything else slowly came back to her then, revealing itself in little bits and pieces, and she realized that the familiar voice she heard had to belong to the guy with the tremendously stupid nickname of Tater. He was one of 'The Lost Boys' (or whatever the hell they called themselves) and he'd picked her up out of the street like roadkill. She must've passed out as he'd been carrying her and now he and his unknown friend were taking her...somewhere. That was bad but they didn't yet realize that she had regained consciousness so at least she had that going for her. Maybe if she stayed quiet they wouldn't find out. Maybe they would untie her and she could -

"I can't believe we got into all this because of that fucking asshole Klebitz, man," said the first guy, breaking into her train of thought. "We hardly even _knew_ the guy."

"Doesn't matter," Tater answered, sounding as if he was growing a little testy with his companion. "Johnny was one of us. So was Terry and Clay and the other fifty fucking guys he killed. We call ourselves a _brotherhood_ for a reason. We're supposed to have each other's backs no matter what and it doesn't matter if we knew them or if they knew us. We avenge our fallen brothers when the need arises." There was a long pause and then, in a tone that was a little less harsh, "I mean, shit, Vinnie. Wouldn't you want someone to take out the son of a bitch who stomped your fucking head in?"

"Well...yeah, of course," Vinnie answered a bit reluctantly. "But the only reason Deke's pushing this so hard is because he wants to be president of his own chapter here. He knows that if he kills that freak he can pretty much take over. I don't want to die just so that prick can call all the shots."

"That prick _already_ calls all the shots," Tater told him, sounding grim and matter-of-fact. "And don't you fucking forget it. You know, you're lucky I like you, Vin. If he heard any of this shit you're spewing right now..."

They hit another bump and Livia had to suppress a groan as it reawakened the sick throbbing buried in her joints and muscles.

"I just don't like being moved around like pawns on a fucking chessboard," Vinnie said, sounding morose and yet resigned to his fate. "It's always the pawns that get sacrificed first."

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up already?" Tater returned, his tone not necessarily unkind. "You're giving me a headache with all the bitchin' you're doing."

They rode in silence for a long while, going over more bumps and dips in the road until the ache in her body had her whimpering helplessly behind the tape sealing her mouth as tears leaked slowly from her eyes. They didn't hear her over the noise of the vehicle bouncing around and she tried to stay as still as possible even though everything hurt now. Her body was just one big miserable ache, making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything other than the pain. Finally, after what felt like forever, they began to slow and finally came to a stop; the brakes giving a screech that set her teeth on edge.

Livia heard the window on the driver's side roll down and then Tater called out to someone, "Hey! Hey, yo! Polly!"

"Whaddaya want?" came a woman's voice, haughty and yet somehow flirtatious at the same time.

"Shag that fat ass of yours over here and give me a kiss!"

Livia heard her bright laughter at this and then she called back, "Go kiss your mother, you spud-suckin' fuck!"

Now it was the men's turn to laugh, both Tater and his accomplice, and then the truck was moving again; hitting a bump in the road that made Livia's forehead bounce off of the floor hard enough to make her see stars. She gritted her teeth against it, fighting the punch-drunk feeling of impending unconsciousness, and tried to breathe slow and steady through her nose until it passed. Only moments later she felt the vehicle she was in come to another stop and then came the sound of Tater setting the parking brake.

Livia lay there perfectly still, her heart pounding, her head pounding and her stomach in knots; not knowing what was coming next but trying to keep herself as cool and collected as she possibly could. Doors were opening on either side of her and she heard them step out. After the doors slammed shut again she was alone and let out a slow, shaky breath through her nostrils; wishing she could wipe away the cold sweat that had broken out on her forehead.

She jumped a little when she heard voices at the back of the van begin speaking and now it sounded like maybe it was more than just two people talking. Livia made an attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation but this time the layers of metal and plastic separating them made it impossible for her to understand anything at all. She let out another heavy sigh, her stomach twisting in anxious knots, and tried not to think too much about what might happen when they finally opened up the van again and pulled her out.

After maybe as long as five minutes she heard a set of double doors behind her open and was grateful for the time she'd had to let her body relax. Now if only she could keep herself from visibly shaking, her ploy might actually have a chance of working.

_Asleep. I'm asleep,_ she thought; trying to shift the forces of fate in her favor by willpower alone. _Still out. Dead to the fucking world. No need to worry about me, you greasy bastards. I'm just some dumb chick who went and got her silly self knocked the fuck out. See?_

But her heart was pounding so hard she feared that he might see the thump of it in her chest beneath the thin, sweat-soaked material of her t-shirt...or perhaps he'd feel it on his hands as he hooked one of them into her armpit and the other beneath the lax curve of her knees to lift her. Being moved again was agony but she was hardly aware of it. She was focusing too hard on playing dead because, even though it wasn't much, fooling him seemed the only hope available to her at the moment.

Her ruse must've worked because the man carrying her turned around and began moving, the bounce of his step bringing fresh misery to her battered body. Livia waited, still trying to control her breathing even though the pain was quickly becoming unbearable, and soon her neck started to stiffen no matter how she tried to stay loose.

Dim lights were passing by and she heard voices talking somewhere off to her left but then the man carrying her shifted her body a little, making the agony in her neck and right side flare up, and she lost track of everything in an effort to keep up her play-acting. When she was finally laid down on the floor on top of a semi-soft surface, she opened her eyes once more and saw a low, steady glow filtering in through the thick material of the hood. She waited, trying to let her stiff muscles relax as slowly as possible so she wouldn't give a twitch or groan that might give her away, and then she felt his knees land not-so-gently on her left. It drew a pained grunt from the man who'd carried her and she heard him muttering curses under his breath.

Suddenly he removed the hood with a rough jerk and, even though it hurt terribly, she shut her eyes at the same instant it was gone; careful not to squeeze them shut too tightly and to keep her face as slack as possible. She could feel him watching her for a long, tense moment and fought to let her body relax even further; trying not to whimper as the pain came in slowly spiraling waves that radiated outward from her right knee all the way up to bundle of nerves at the back of her neck.

When she felt him reach behind her and slip a tiny blade under the zip tie, she couldn't stop herself from wincing as he sawed roughly through it. Suddenly she was free and she let her arms come apart, trying not to give a muffled cry as they thumped painfully down on either side of her. She felt him plant one hand on the back of her thigh to balance himself while he stood again and she very nearly screamed at the pressure it put on her strained knee.

He felt her involuntary jerk at the pain and suddenly he was back on his knees beside her, "Oh, wakin' up on us, huh?"

It wasn't Tater's voice and he didn't sound anything like the one he'd called Vinnie. This was a different man entirely. It seemed these asshole bikers were never in short supply.

"Don't bother playin' possum now," he said, his voice deep and a little raspy. He poked her with the tip of one finger, "Come on, I know you're awake." 

And the motherfucker kept poking her in her side again and again. It wasn't exactly hard but it didn't feel good either. Over and over. Poke. Poke. _Poke_. Suddenly her fear, which had been overwhelming only moments ago, began to melt away and anger was rushing up to fill the void.

Poke. Poke. Poke. In the exact same goddamned place every goddamned time. She could feel her face growing warm even as that unexpected cold feeling of focus began to descend on her; that weird, scary coldness that felt almost like slipping into someone else's skin entirely. It was like she was becoming another Livia that was still her but somehow...different. And she was surprised to realize that this new Livia wasn't really scared at all.

Poke. Poke, poke, poke. Poke.

Finally she couldn't take it anymore and snapped her head to one side; now looking at him with narrowed, hostile eyes. With long, stringy black hair and muddy brown eyes that looked back at her with dim intelligence, this one almost made a greasy fuck like Tater look handsome. Livia grunted at the effort it took to raise one hand and gripped the edge of the tape on her mouth. Ripping it off and giving a brief, angry cry from the pain, she looked directly into the biker's eyes again and shouted, "Will you quit fucking poking me?!"

He laughed, showing a mouthful of big, crooked teeth that were surprisingly white. He looked to be about forty or so, desperately needed a shave, and skinny as a whip. He had a lot of tattoos on his neck and on the skinny wrists and hands dangling beneath the cuffs of his scuffed leather jacket. On the right breast of his jacket there was a patch that said 'Loyal' and the left side had a patch that said 'LC'.

"You're a little spitfire, ain't ya?" he asked, still showing her those pearly whites. "I see what Tater meant now."

Livia rolled away from him on the dirty pallet he'd deposited her on and it took her two tries before she could prop herself up on her left elbow. With her hair hanging in her eyes and that cold feeling settling even deeper into her bones, she looked over at him again and asked, "What happened to Trevor?"

The smile on his face fell away almost as quickly as if she'd reached over and slapped it off.

Now it was her turn to smile. "He got away, didn't he?"

The man with the greasy hair swallowed and she could see his rather large Adam's apple bob up and down in his scrawny neck.

She laughed a little at that and then groaned at the pain it awoke in her ribs. "You bikers are fucking priceless," she said, giving a shake of her head. "How many times have you guys tried to kill him now? Couple dozen?"

"Go on and keep laughing," he said in his raspy voice, actually sounding a bit embarrassed by her mockery. "We'll see how long you do that after Deke gets here."

Livia lay back with a sigh and said, "Oh, okay. Well, I wait with bated breath."

She heard him stand up then and she looked over to see him staring at her with his muddy brown eyes. He seemed hesitant to look away from her; his long fingers fidgeting now. "You can't get out of this room," he said, still frowning.

Livia didn't reply. 

"The door's locked and there's a guy sitting right outside," he told her.

She only looked at him.

"And no one can hear you if you scream for help so don't bother wasting your breath."

Livia waited.

"There's a bucket in the corner if you should feel the need to take a shit," he said as he walked away.

She watched him go to the only door in the tiny room and lift one skeletal hand to rap his knuckles on the unpainted wood. Seconds later she heard some kind of heavy lock outside opening and then the door swung inward. Livia lifted her head to look but the angle was wrong and she couldn't see the guard at all, much less whether or not he was armed. The skinny biker with the greasy hair stepped through into a long, narrow hallway and quickly pulled the door shut behind him again; cutting off her view of what lay beyond the room.

Soon she heard the lock clicking shut again and she lay back down with a sigh. Livia found a tattered travel-size pillow off to one side and used it to prop up her head and ease some of the strain on her stiff neck. Apparently she wasn't going to get any real answers until this Deke guy showed up so she decided to try and get some rest while she could. She had a feeling she was going to need it.

••••••••••••••••••••••

 _Wake up_.

Livia came out of a doze and cracked her eyes open to find herself in the same room with the same dull cinder block walls and the same unmarked concrete floor. Her internal clock told her that she'd slept for maybe as long as an hour before that voice in her head finally spoke up. Rubbing at her neck and wincing as she turned her head slowly from one side to the other, she tried to work some of the stiffness out of it. She was still sore, very sore, but she knew she'd gotten lucky when she'd been hit by that car. If she hadn't flipped over the hood and had gone under the wheels instead -

 _Quit whining and get on your feet_.

Livia struggled but finally pushed herself up onto her feet, groaning as her aching muscles stretched and her joints popped in what seemed like a thousand different places.

_Take a look around you. What do you see?_

She let her eyes drift aimlessly around the room, not sure what that chilly voice in her head expected her to find. The room they were holding her in wasn't very big, maybe fifteen feet long on each side, and looked as though it had almost nothing in it. There were a few shelves nailed up on the walls and she went to each of them, running her hands along them since she was just a little too short to see. She found nothing other than a lot of dust bunnies, a few loose sheets of paper with writing on them that was far too faded to read, and some cut scraps of plastic-coated wire.

Now Livia let her eyes drift to the farthest corner, there on the right side of the door there was a pile of boxes. Maybe four or five of them were stacked carelessly on top of one another and she went slowly over to them; walking with a limp and favoring her badly bruised right leg. She opened the cardboard flaps of the topmost box and nearly gagged at the smell of mould that drifted up toward her face. Covering her mouth and nose with the collar of her shirt, she put her hands in with a grimace and began to dig. Searching all the way down to its slightly damp and very unpleasant bottom, she found nothing but mouldy clothes and a few skin mags that looked like they'd been new around the turn of the millennia. The next two offered up equally useless junk and she set them aside one by one; her hands and arms covered with gross shit she didn't want to even stop and consider.

Twenty minutes later and she was working on the last box with her face set in a look of determination. She was even dirtier than before and very tired, her body shaking from the strain she was putting on her overtaxed muscles, and she wanted nothing more than to lie back down and rest for a while. But she couldn't just stop. That cold voice inside of her wouldn't _let_ her stop. She had to find something useful, something that could help get her out of this mess somehow. She knew there had to be... _something_. That cold voice in her mind was very persistent about it.

Then Livia found what she was looking for beneath an ancient, wadded up newspaper covered with coffee stains. It was just an old toothbrush with bristles that were almost black with age but the handle was still solid. Just a stick of plastic about five inches long and maybe a half inch in diameter but the voice insisted that it would do. She felt herself smile and that cold voice (or presence?) seemed to smile along with her. The toothbrush felt good in her hand. Something about it just felt _right_.

She had no idea if she would need it, no idea of what these bikers wanted with her, but she knew that right now anything was better than nothing. So, yeah, they might kill her, that was probably exactly how this would all end, but she had no intention of making it easy for them.

Still smiling as she limped back over to her pallet, she gently lowered herself into a sitting position and gave a long, tired sigh. Letting her aching muscles rest again was a relief but she couldn't let herself lay down again no matter how badly she might want to. Already psyching herself up, feeling the low, steady beat of adrenaline flooding her veins, she thought to herself that she was tired of being a victim at the hands of others, tired of backing down and hiding and just surviving. This time when she saw her chance, _if_ she saw her chance, she would be sure to take it.

Right now, however, Livia had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up (for anyone who actually gives a shit haha) but it might take a little longer to get the next few chapters out. Mostly because I'll be pretty busy but also because I want to get them just right. Hopefully you can be patient with me.


	42. Chapter 42

Livia had three more hours alone before she heard the lock disengaging and the door finally opened again. She'd had some time to think and now she felt calmer, a little more like the old Livia, but she could still feel that weird coldness, that _otherness_ , hiding somewhere in the back of her mind. She was relieved to find that it was still there somewhere and that it hadn't left her completely. She had an idea that it'd only gone dormant for a little while; resting until she needed to call upon its strength again. So even though her heart sped up and her palms got sweaty, it helped to keep her expression carefully blank as she raised her head from where she lay on the musty pallet and saw the towering monster of a man entering the room.

The newcomer had to be at least six four and probably weighed close to three hundred pounds; so big that he had to turn sideways a bit before he could fit himself through the narrow doorway. She remembered Chef talking about him before, calling him a 'roid monkey', and the shape of him _did_ remind her of a gorilla. He had a big barrel-like chest and long, powerful arms that strained at the seams of his leather jacket and equally powerful looking, tree trunk-like legs below. He wore a plain black shirt underneath his jacket, faded jeans with the knees ripped out and huge, shiny black motorcycle boots that made a thudding/jingling sound with every step he took. His head was mostly shaved except for a wide strip on top where black hair threaded here and there with silver stuck up like newly mowed grass in a weird kind of buzzed mohawk. His skin was sunburned and peeling on both sides of his big nose and she saw sweat trickling down his clean-shaven cheeks; clearly this was a man not accustomed to the Los Santos climate. Then she finally caught sight of his eyes and they were a startling shade of emerald green; pretty like a cat's eyes were pretty sometimes. Even though he looked like someone's idea of a bad joke, she didn't fail to notice the distinct sparkle of meanness and intelligence in those extraordinary eyes of his. Tater and his skinny friend were a threat to her but this guy...this guy made those two look as harmless as newborn kittens.

He saw her looking at him from where she lay on the pallet and favored her with a smile; his greying handlebar mustache, much thicker and more robust than Tater's, bowing out on either side of his mouth. "Hidey ho," he said, waving one huge hand that had a skull and crossbones tattooed on the back of it. "You must be the lady everyone's talking about."

He came closer, stopping just at the farthest end of her pallet, and Livia made herself sit up, unable to keep a tiny moan from escaping her lips as the muscles in her body cried out their protest once more.

Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she looked up at him and smiled back at him, "And you must be Deke. I've been waiting for you."

Deke laughed at that; a genuine, way down in the belly laugh that made his eyes sparkle all the more. "Have you, now? Well, I'm flattered," he said, squatting down in front of her with his hands dangling between his powerful legs much the same as the skinny biker had done before him. He palmed sweat from his forehead and absently flicked it away before cocking his head to one side; those jewel-green eyes looking at her as if she were some kind of new and interesting bug. "What's your name?"

Livia told him, not seeing the point of withholding it, and he nodded to himself; rubbing one finger along the right side of his glorious mustache.

"Well, Livia, I wish I could say it's nice to meet you but..." He let his words hang there for a moment before asking in a soft voice, "Do you know why you're here?"

"Because you and your goons fucked up and let Trevor get away?" she returned, enjoying the way his smile fell away as she said this.

She knew she should be scared, that this big ugly biker expected her to be pissing her pants in fear, but when she reached for that cold presence inside, it reached out to her as well; imparting just enough of itself to keep her steady. Maybe she was a little scared, maybe she couldn't help it, but mostly what she felt at this moment was anger and a growing desire to see this bodybuilding motherfucker's pretty eyes gouged right out of his skull.

"Now you want to use me to draw him out, right? Maybe ask for ransom or..." Livia smiled wider and she saw Deke's mouth turn down severely at the corners as she asked, "Do you plan on torturing me for information on his whereabouts?"

She saw his eyes widen in surprise at that but he recovered only seconds later, lifting one hand to rub at his mouth and hide the deepening scowl there. Now those cat eyes regarded her with a measure of wariness that hadn't been there seconds before, perhaps wondering how she could say these things in such an emotionless and dead voice; like she wouldn't expect anything less. Apparently this wasn't going quite the way he'd imagined it would and he needed a moment to rethink how he wanted to play this. She counted all the way to forty five Mississippi before he raised his eyes and looked at her again.

Instead of pretending to be horrified or insulted, he said in a low, confidential voice, "It doesn't have to come to that. We don't _want_ to hurt you, Livia, and we don't _have_ to keep you here. If you tell us where Trevor is right now, we can just send you on your merry way. Doesn't that sound good to you?"

She gave a humorless bark of laughter at that and then winced at the pain in her ribs. "I wish I could tell you but I don't know," she said, her expression betraying nothing as she stared back at him. "We were staying in hotels, never longer than a night or two...so he's probably moved on by now."

Deke looked at her for a long time and waited for her to say more.

Livia patiently waited him out, counting at least fifty more 'Mississippi's, while looking right back into those pretty emerald green eyes of his and giving him nothing in return.

Finally Deke's frown softened a little and he sounded genuinely regretful as he told her, "Sorry, honey, but I don't buy it."

Livia answered with a smile that held zero warmth, "Well, that's okay because I'm not fucking selling it. It's the truth." Her smile widened a little more. " _Honey_."

Deke's frown solidified again as he finally dropped his eyes and raised one big hand to rub at his forehead like a man coming down with a bad tension headache. "You're not leaving until you tell me what I want to know," he told her with a sigh, almost sounding tired now. "And if you want to keep playing games with me, you're not going to leave at all."

Livia's smile had faded but she kept her mouth shut. Did he think that any of this was news to her?

Those gorgeous eyes of his came up to meet hers again and he said, "You will tell me what I want to know, Livia. No matter how strong you are - or how strong you _think_ you are - you'll tell me everything soon enough."

" _Ve haff vays of makink you talk_ ," she said and laughed; a bright sunny sound that made his thick eyebrows come together in an angry look that she didn't fail to notice.

She suspected that he'd make her pay for laughing at him, he didn't seem like the type of man who easily forgot such disrespect, but right now it was enough just to know she'd gotten to him...that she _could_ get to him.

Then Deke stood up again and turned away without another word. He quickly left the room and Livia lay back down, her face now creased in its own frown as she thought about what might lay ahead. After she heard the lock clicking shut again, she slipped her fingers under one side of the filthy pallet to touch the blackened bristles of the toothbrush and felt that coldness reaching out for her again at the same time. It wasn't much, just the slightest caress, but it helped simply by being there. 

••••••••••••••••••

She was asleep when the door of her makeshift cell opened again.

Livia felt hands touching her and she came awake at once; striking out blindly and swiping a huge strip of flesh from someone's face with her short fingernails. She heard the man cry out and then she was being pinned to the pallet with someone's knee on her spine grinding in until she screamed in pain. She tried to reach under the pallet but then her arms were being pinned down just before someone forced a pair of cuffs on them; clicking them shut so tightly that the metal band pinched her skin and drew a nasty blood blister.

"Let me go! Let me go!!" she shrieked at them in a voice high enough to shatter crystal. " _Oh God, just get the fuck off of meeee_!!!!" As the pain in her back reached a crescendo and she thought she couldn't possibly take anymore, that this pain must surely kill her, the knee was suddenly lifted and she was gasping for breath again; feeling a wetness on her face that could only be tears.

Then she was being hauled up onto her knees, moaning and shaking, and someone began dragging her backwards; her sneakers stuttering and then catching on the concrete floor until the friction pulled them both from her feet. Still trying to catch her breath and swallow past the fading agony she'd felt only moments ago, Livia looked up to see that the man dragging her was Tater. Turning her head to the left side she saw the skinny one with the stringy hair and then, looking to the right, she saw another man she did not recognize. A tall man with a brown beard and a shaved head who wore an almost pained expression.

She was leaving the room now, being taken through the long narrow hallway, and she let her head drop; trying to concentrate. She reached out for the other inside her mind, the colder Livia, and she could only hear a faint mutter; given only the slightest indication that it hadn't deserted her entirely. Forty steps or so brought them to another room and the man with the beard reached over to the wall beside the door and flipped up four light switches simultaneously with the side of one hand. Several banks of florescent lights flickered to life above them, some dimmer than others, but it was enough to reveal what looked like an industrial washroom of some kind. 

Half of the rather large room was covered in white tile, some of them discolored, chipped or missing, and there were maybe ten big showerheads set all along the far wall; most of them so old that Livia doubted a single drop of water could make it through all those years of rust and neglect. The floor was also covered in tile and there were huge drains with big rusted grates set into the floor at five foot intervals. Trails of rust snaked down from each of the ancient showerheads and pooled on the floor beneath; huge red stains that looked a lot like dried puddles of blood.

Livia was dragged to a spot between two of the showerheads and Tater set her down almost gently, turning around and walking to stand with the other two at the edge of the tile where it met the rest of the bare concrete floor. She pressed her back against the wall and pushed with her hands and feet, coming to stand and face them even though she slipped several times because of her socks. Three men stared back at her and she couldn't help but notice that Tater was smiling wide enough to show that gold tooth again. His eyes looked back at her with the same mean pleasure she'd seen in Trevor so many times before and when she looked to the skinny man she saw that he wore a smirk that might turn into a grin any second. He also had a pretty long scratch across his left cheek that ended at the tip of his nose, showing little beads of blood all down its length, and that probably accounted for at least some of the mean sparkle in his dark eyes.

The only one who didn't look like he wanted to be here was the man with the beard. He stood there with his head bowed and his eyes fixed somewhere in the vicinity of her bellybutton.

"What is this?" she asked, speaking to the man with the beard; hoping he would at least look at her. If they were going to hurt her, and she was pretty sure that's what was about to happen, she wanted him to have to look her in the eyes. She wanted him to remember her face. "Why did you bring me here?"

But it was Tater who answered her question with one of his own, "You ever been camping before?"

Livia looked over at him, unable to help the way her upper lip curled up into a look of disgust, "What?"

"Take off your clothes," he said, that mean smile seeming to swallow his entire face.

"Fuck you!" she spat back at him. She didn't even think about it; it was a knee-jerk reaction that came out of nowhere. Her words might've sounded angry but she was getting scared again. She could feel it creeping up on her, invading her, taking over and quelling the furious fire that had been burning in her heart since she'd woken up and found herself in the hands of the enemy.

Both Tater and the skinny man with the greasy hair laughed. The one with the beard frowned and let his eyes slip closed for a moment; looking like a man who wished he could be anywhere else right about now.

"Take off your clothes," Tater repeated, the laughter suddenly gone from his voice.

Livia pressed her back harder into the wall. Her heart was speeding up and she could feel her hands begin to shake. She hadn't been expecting this. To be harassed, threatened or beaten, almost certainly, but this...this wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't something she'd been preparing herself for in the least. She couldn't go through this...not again. Not with three of them.

"I - I won't do it," she said, no longer sounding like the woman who had laughed at them earlier. When Tater stepped forward she took several steps to the right, sidling quickly away from him. " _I won't_!"

"You _will_ ," he said, grinning in a detached, unfeeling way that also reminded her of Trevor. "Or we'll come over there and do it for you."

Livia could feel the presence of the other deserting her; turning its face away from what was about to happen and leaving her to deal with this part on her own. Her fear quickly escalated with this realization and now she could hardly breathe, she could hardly think. It only took Tater moving a few steps closer before her nerve broke completely and she came away from the wall with a scream. She was running as fast as her limp would allow, her cuffed hands held out before her in a warding-off gesture, and then someone's strong arms were wrapping around her waist and lifting her off her feet.

She scissored her legs back and forth wildly, screaming at the top of her lungs, and then she was being slammed up against the wall again; a much larger body pressing her into the smooth tiles until she could only draw shallow half-breaths. Livia let out a frightened wail as several pairs of hands shredded the flimsy t-shirt and leggings from her body; having very little trouble since they were already ripped in several places. Now she was moaning with fear as they tore away her undergarments too and she was left standing there naked and defenseless. The body that had been pressing against hers finally pulled away but she stayed against the wall, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and trying to ignore the bitter sting of tears behind her eyelids.

"Turn around."

She shook her head, clasping her hands together between her breasts as if in prayer, and heard footsteps again before a hand gripped her shoulder and forced her to turn around. She heard something squeak and then the sound of water rushing through pipes before the man stepped away and freezing cold water hit her belly.

Livia gasped and held up her bound hands to block the spray and she could hear Tater and the skinny guy laughing as she tried to turn away again. It was some kind of high-pressure hose, the water stinging her flesh even as it numbed it, and she choked and sputtered as it moved upward and hit her face; forcing rivers of ice down her nose and throat. She turned her head away, gagging and ejecting the freezing water a second later, and let out a cry of fear and pain. She tried to step away from the spray but slipped on the tiles and went down; landing on her ass with a splash as Tater and his pal laughed even harder.

"Here!" one of them cried out, sounding as if he were having a grand old time as she coughed and turned her face to the tiles and tried to block the water with her bound hands once more. She felt something solid strike her back and gave a frightened scream, drawing more laughter. "Wash yaself up, ya nasty bitch!"

Livia was shaking so hard that her teeth clicked together as she grabbed the bar of soap that'd hit her and chucked it back at them blindly. The water shifted away from her and she tried to stand; slipping and almost falling again. She scrabbled desperately for purchase on the wet tiles, moaning and shivering, and then she felt a pair of warm hands grabbing her by her elbows. As she was yanked up onto her feet again, Livia looked around to see the one with the beard staring down at her with a scowl that told her he wasn't enjoying this the same way his buddies were. There was no laughter in those dark brown eyes.

"Aww, come on, Kurt!" Tater called out, still laughing but sounding a bit irritated with the interference. "Let her do it herself!"

Water hit her midriff and she winced before the man with the beard turned her away and brought his face down close to hers. "Just do what he says," he said, his voice a whisper she almost missed over the sound of water hitting the tiles to her right. "They won't stop this until you do so...so don't go making it worse on yourself."

Then he thrust the bar of soap into her hands and she nodded up at him; gritting her teeth against the stinging/freezing water that shifted and hit her lower left leg. Then the one they'd called Kurt was releasing her and she did as he'd advised; quickly rubbing the big green bar of soap over her goosepimpled skin. She managed to work up a pretty good lather before the frigid water hit her again and dashed it all away. She gasped and danced on the tips of her toes to stay upright, shivering and desperately rubbing that bar of soap over herself again and again.

Tater and the skinny one continued to laugh at her the whole time, guffawing at her little cries of discomfort and sometimes calling her a dirty cunt before pointing out a spot they thought she missed. She heard all this but she wouldn't look at them or speak to them; refusing to give them the acknowledgement that they wanted. She grimly washed herself with her eyes closed, stubbornly locking her jaw against the tears of pain and humiliation that wanted to come, until they tired of their game. No matter how horrible and demeaning this was, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. If she really had to, if she absolutely couldn't avoid it, she could always cry later alone in her cell; far from those that might enjoy it.

Finally they shut the water off and one of them threw a towel at her. She dried herself off and awkwardly wrapped the towel around her chest, hiding her nakedness. She didn't fight them as Tater and the skinny one came forward to grip her elbows and lead her back to her room. Kurt trailed behind them, quiet and thoughtful. As they neared her room, she saw the one they'd left to guard her stand and was surprised to see that he was just a kid; surely no more than twenty or so. Not that she cared all that much, she was more interested in the gun she saw stuffed into the back of his pants as he leaned over to open the door for them. It was an automatic and big, whatever it was. If she could just get her hands on that...

Tater and the skinny one led her to the pallet before they unlocked the handcuffs and cautiously released her again. She took a few steps forward, thinking they would leave her, but then Tater reached down to grasp one end of her towel and rip it off; exposing her freezing body to the open air again.

As she tried to cover herself with her hands, the tears closer than ever, she looked up into his eyes and snarled, "Bastard."

Tater's ugly smile grew as he gave a shrug, "What? I like you so much better this way. It leaves nothing to the imagination."

He laughed and she turned away in a hurry, fighting the urge to reach up and slap that stupid fucking smile off of his hateful face. Her time would come...and he wouldn't be laughing then. No one would be laughing.

They left the room, locking the door behind them once more, and Livia sat down on the pallet. She huddled up into herself with her arms around her knees and tried to will her body into warming itself up again. It wouldn't do to die of hypothermia before she got her chance at a little payback. Bit by bit, a tingly feeling of returning warmth crept back into her fingers and toes and, still shivering as tears slipped from her eyes and fell like rain on her heaving chest, she took the toothbrush out from under her pallet and tested it with the ball of her thumb.

Smiling at the blood that soon welled to the surface of her skin, she could feel that cold other returning; erasing the sorrow and pain and fear. Oh yes, her time would come. Sooner or later didn't matter. It _would_ come.


	43. Chapter 43

Livia didn't have contact with anyone else until they brought her some food the next afternoon...or was it evening? She wasn't sure anymore because it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell time while trapped in this dank, windowless room.

She would've asked the man who'd brought the food if she could have something to wear but he'd been quick to set everything down on the floor next to the door and then he was gone again before she could even open her mouth. The thought of them trying to drug her crossed her mind but she couldn't see a reason why they would and besides, she was ravenously hungry by then; practically inhaling what they'd given her. The food itself hadn't been much to speak of, just a bottle of water and a bologna sandwich with a few stale chips, but it'd been enough to give her a small measure of strength back. It was probably supposed to give her the idea that there was still hope of being released; that if she just gave up Trevor she could walk out of here like Deke had promised.

Livia smirked to herself and thought, _What a crock of shit_.

She guessed that giving her the bare minimum of food and denying her clothing was just another way to crumble her defenses and leave her feeling helpless and frightened; to get her that much closer to giving in. Too bad for them she'd already decided it didn't matter one way or another. If she had to fight and die naked, she would...but maybe it was best she do it soon before they decided to stop giving her anything to eat at all. Her slim chances would only shrink more with each passing day that hunger weakened her body.

No one came to torture her or ask any questions. No one came to check on her or empty out the bucket of piss she'd left in the corner, either. Other than the man who'd brought the sandwich and the bottle of water, no one came at all. Livia knew that this was just another tactic they employed in an attempt to weaken her. They would let her wait and wait until she felt like she couldn't take it anymore. With nothing to do and no one to talk to, perhaps they thought the uncertainty and fear would get to her; turn her own mind against her as she imagined all the horrible things they were going to do. In a way it was actually almost funny.

Throughout her entire life it seemed that her mind had been against her; that she had been her own worst enemy. Now that she should be sick with worry, sick with fear and doubt...she actually felt very little of either. She knew she was probably going to die and had simply accepted it with a speed that would probably be scary to anyone else. But it made perfect sense to her.

Why would she hope for a miracle? Had one happened when her family had been beating her almost every day? No. Had one happened when Ray had been stealing what was left of her innocence at eleven years old? Another no. There would be no hope and certainly no miracles here, either. The only thing she wanted now was a chance to take a few of them down with her; to make her inevitable death _mean_ something. Maybe she'd get lucky and get Tater or his skinny friend with the greasy hair...or, hell, why not shoot for the moon? If she managed to take out Deke somehow maybe the rest of the bikers would lose interest in going after Trevor.

Even if she believed what Deke had said about releasing her if she gave him up, she wouldn't do it. She would _never_ do it. Why? Well, there were a couple of reasons, actually. The first: _fuck those bike-riding bastards_. The second: she wasn't entirely stupid. Deke had absolutely no intention of letting her walk no matter what she said or did. She knew their names, had seen their faces, and nothing in the world would stop her from telling the authorities everything once she was free. Why would they risk being caught and charged with kidnapping and murder? Why wouldn't they just dig a hole in the desert and be done with it? Giving Trevor up would accomplish nothing.

And, aside from that, well, there was no reason to lie to herself anymore, was there? The third (and perhaps biggest) reason she had was that she still cared for Trevor a great deal...and in a way she hadn't cared for anyone since Paul.

Was it really love that she felt for Trevor Philips? Or, at the very least, the beginnings of what could someday be love?

Livia gave a firm shake of her head and frowned. She flipped the old dime she'd found hours earlier and watched it spin rapidly in mid-air as if there were some grave importance to the task. The dime landed on her palm heads up and she made a mental note; thirty six heads to forty three tails. Tails was getting closer and closer to that victorious one hundred mark.

It wasn't the most exciting game but it did help to pass the time.

In truth, she didn't really want to wonder about whether or not she loved Trevor. The time for such things had long passed. She was never going to see him again so what did it matter? It wouldn't change anything and would only serve to make her death that much more painful.

More optimistic souls might sit and wait for rescue. Livia, however, had never been blessed (or was it cursed?) with optimism. It had been...what? Two days and most of a third? If Trevor was able to find her then he probably would have done so by now. There was no use thinking that he would come; no practical reason for getting her hopes up. No, she would die here, that was almost certain. The only question now was how she went out. Would she do it crying and begging for mercy or would she leave this world covered in biker blood?

The only hope she had left was that she would have a chance to take the second option.

Up went the coin. Flipping maybe half a dozen times, it landed on her palm and she slapped her right hand down on top of it. Lifting her hand again, she arched an eyebrow and gave a smirk. Tails...hmmm. Was this a trick coin of some kind? It certainly didn't look different from any other dime. A little tarnished, maybe, but ol' Roosevelt still looked as stern and forbidding as ever.

Trevor wasn't coming but that wasn't to say he wouldn't at least _try_ to find her. There was no doubt in her mind that he would do everything in his power. Could he, though? That was the real question here and, for once, her heart and mind seemed in perfect agreement on the answer. Despite all his money and his resources, it would be a long shot at best. The only way she'd ever see his face again would be if the Lost managed to successfully draw Trevor out into the open...and then they would probably both die.

As much as she wanted to see him again, however nice it would be to see his smile one last time, it was better that she go alone to whatever grisly demise awaited her. Better that she try to do something for once in her life rather than just sit around and wait for death to come to her. She had a feeling that if she took out a few Lost on her way, she might even die with a smile on her face.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was in the wee hours of the morning when something woke her. She opened her eyes and saw nothing but the same dirty concrete wall she'd seen before closing her eyes. She heard a rustling sound, the subtleness of shifting fabrics rubbing together, and suddenly there was a big warm body pressed up against her back. She gave a choked cry of alarm and tried to roll away but an arm snaked around her middle and held her down.

"Trevor?!" she croaked, her throat dry and her heart galloping in her chest like a runaway horse. Of course it wasn't him, _couldn't_ be, but she couldn't stop that one hopeful utterance of his name.

She heard the person behind her burp and then a wash of foul liquor fumes blew over her face. "No," came an obviously drunk man's voice. "Shut the fuck up."

Livia gave a breathless scream and drove her elbow backward, glancing off of his shoulder. She heard him grunt sourly and tried to break free of his grip but even though he was drunk he was still much stronger than her; turning her over and pinning her to the pallet with his larger body. Looking up, she wasn't all that surprised to see Tater's bleary eyes looking back down at her. She felt one of his hands slide up her naked chest until it wrapped around her throat and then he squeezed; not hard enough to cut off her air completely but enough to make each terrified breath wheeze in and out of her throat.

"What are you doing?!" she cried, placing both palms against his chest and shoving as hard as she could. "Get the fuck off of me!"

But he didn't budge an inch and smiled down at her, revealing his gold tooth again. It twinkled dimly in the single sixty watt bulb dangling from the ceiling and more sour liquor fumes blew down into her face as he growled, "Spread your legs, bitch."

"No!" she said, shoving against him even harder, also to no avail. "I said get the fuck _off_!"

"Shut up, ya fuckin' cunt," Tater breathed down at her as he squeezed her throat a little tighter. He forced one knee between her thighs no matter how desperately she tried to keep them together and then was wriggling his body between them as he growled, "Fuckin' women. Nothin' but cunts, all of ya."

She looked down to see him reaching for his belt buckle with his free hand and let out a low moan of fear as he began to fumble drunkenly with it. Oh fuck. Fuck, _fuck_. Even as drunk as he was, she knew it wouldn't take him long to get it free. Just a couple of quick movements and then - 

_No, goddamn it. **NO.**_

The voice was so forceful, so full of righteous fury this time that it hit her like a slap in the face; clearing away the panic that had been on the verge of consuming her entirely. Livia gave up her useless pushing against him and stiffly stuck out her left arm without even thinking about it. She felt along the side of her pallet as Tater continued fighting with his belt buckle and her fingers slipped underneath the edge where she thought it would be only to find nothing.

Where was the goddamned thing? She'd had it right there in easy reach before she'd curled into a ball and fell asleep so where the fuck was it?

"At least I've got you, huh?" Tater mused, giving an angry laugh as he finally managed to undo his belt. He pulled his pants down to his mid-thighs and then grunted with satisfaction as he reached into his boxers and pulled his cock out. He looked up and his bright blue eyes met her much darker ones, bloodshot and slowly blinking at her as if to clear his vision and see her better.

"Nobody's gonna care if I get a little use out of you," he said, sounding as if he were talking to himself more than her. "I'm the one that found you anyway...I should get first dibs, right? Deke won't mind. It was on his fucking to-do list anyway."

He cackled at this and Livia stared back at him, saying nothing in return as her fingers continued their quest. She kept searching and searching, her mouth set in a grim line as she found nothing but more of that cold concrete. He must've not noticed what she was doing because he only grunted and lifted her right leg to begin positioning himself for entry. He found what he thought was the right spot and tried to put it in right away. Fortunately for her, she was bone dry and he only painfully poked against her labia a few times. In truth, she was concentrating so hard on finding the toothbrush that she barely even felt it.

She heard him groan in frustration before he brought his hand up to his mouth to spit on it. As he began to slather his saliva along the length of his turgid member, Livia's fingers finally touched something that wasn't concrete and seized it.

Tater was too focused on readying himself to rape her that he didn't see her draw the toothbrush out and set the bristles firmly in her palm. He didn't look up when she brought her arm up again and she even had a second or two to find the best spot before he looked up at her once more.

She waited until his eyes finally met hers and then she slammed the end of the toothbrush into the big fat vein on the side of his neck. It went in so easy that it was almost like a real knife instead of just a five inch long piece of plastic she'd spent hours rubbing against the concrete floor until the handle had become a wickedly sharp point.

Tater gave a surprised, strangled sort of cry and then she was dragging her weapon down; trying to follow the vein and opening his wound wider and wider. Blood gushed from the wound and rained down onto her face, into her mouth and eyes, but she only squinted against it and kept going. She had to open him up as much as possible; had to leave no doubt in her mind.

He tried to push away from her, still choking on his own blood, and Livia sat up with him; clinging to his body with her legs hooked around the back of his and her free hand tangled in his shirt. The toothbrush came to an abrupt halt near his collar bone and she was just starting to drag it to the left when his hand came up to knock her off.

Livia fell back onto the pallet, grunting with pain as well as frustration, and watched as Tater somehow got to his feet. He held one hand to the gaping wound in his throat, trying to staunch the flow of blood, and then he was tottering toward the door with his pants falling down around his ankles. She saw his mouth opening and closing again and again and had time to briefly wonder if he was trying to call for help.

Only ten more steps would bring him to the door and Livia leapt to her feet, still clutching the dripping toothbrush in one hand. Her charge was silent as she ran at him, now smiling even with the coppery taste of his blood coating her teeth and tongue. He tottered two more steps before she jumped up and landed on his back; clinging to him like a monkey as she plunged her shank down into the exposed flesh of his neck again. One, two, three times she sank the pointed tip in, giving a mindless grunt of effort each time, and then they were going down.

She lost her grip on the toothbrush as they hit the ground and she rolled away from him, ignoring the pain that flared in her right leg. Coming up onto her elbows and knees once more, she looked up to see Tater trying to rise again; a torrent of blood pattering down onto the concrete to pool beneath him. How many times would she have to stab him before he stayed down?

Livia stood and quickly made her way to him, wasting no time now. Tater was still trying to crawl toward the door but he wasn't making much progress; just wriggling in an obscene way that made it look like he was trying to hump the bare concrete. He had one hand clamped to the massive wound in his throat while his other stretched out for the door still a good two and a half feet away. She could see a bit of the toothbrush jutting up from his neck like a strange plastic growth but it was only the last two inches or so; the rest was buried deep into his trapezius muscle. She reached down, gripped those blackened bristles, and yanked it out of him with all of her might; giving her own grunt of satisfaction at the wet sound of it coming free. Seconds later, freshets of blood began pouring from the hole it'd made; pooling below his head in a shining halo.

Somewhere in the haze of triumph and bloodlust, a phrase from some old play by Shakespeare rose up in her mind, _Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?_ And she had to smother her mouth with one hand to keep from laughing.

It was at that moment when Tater finally seemed to give up. Rolling over onto his back with a final exhausted flop, he looked up at her with agonized yet aware eyes as more blood poured from his mouth. Livia bent to gently pull his hand away from his neck, not surprised that it came away limp as she noticed that his fingertips were already turning blue. More blood pumped out and soaked the ground beneath them, wetting the soles of her bare feet with its warmth, and she watched as his face grew slack; the light of life slowly fading from his electric blue eyes.

Livia waited, breathing hard and still shaking from the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and when he did not move she nudged the thickest part of his thigh with one foot. She watched his head roll limply back and forth on the concrete but his eyes, already losing their vibrancy, never left her face. It was almost like one of those paintings where their eyes seemed to follow you around the room no matter where you went.

Convinced that Tater would no longer be a problem, she went through his pockets and, while she didn't find the gun she was hoping for, she did find a folding knife in his front right pocket. Tossing her crudely made shank aside, she opened the knife to reveal a sharply gleaming four inch blade and felt her smile slowly returning. Okay...so obviously not as good as a gun but a knife was better than she'd dared to hope for. Besides, she knew where to get one now, didn't she?

But first she had to cover Tater up. She had to give herself the precious few seconds she'd need if her plan - if it could be called such - had any chance of working. She went to the pallet and grabbed the top blanket away, shaking it out over his body and the spreading bloodstains. Almost immediately afterwards poppies of blood began to bloom on the fabric as it settled over him but she thought it would do. With luck, she'd have a few seconds before the kid realized what was up.

Livia took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and then went to the door; knowing that it was now or never. She briefly debated with herself what she would do or say when her hand rose seemingly of its own accord and rapped her knuckles on the wood. Surprised, she took a step back and off to one side as if expecting it to burst open as soon as she took her hand away.

Seconds passed as her heart thundered in her ears and she waited, gripping the handle of Tater's pocket knife so hard that she could feel her knuckle bones creaking. She waited, growing more impatient, and when still there was nothing but silence, she stepped forward again. She carefully pressed her left ear against the door and held her breath, listening as hard as she could.

Livia almost laughed when she heard the soft sound of snoring from the other side. It seemed that, for once, fortune was actually smiling down on her instead of trying to bury her under a tsunami of shit. Letting out her breath slow and steady, she raised her hand and knocked on the door again, hard enough to split two knuckles on that hand.

She stepped back again as she heard the legs of the metal folding chair scraping against the concrete floor and she stood off to one side; out of plain sight when that door opened. She would have to strike fast, she knew, and she said a quick prayer to whoever was listening that she'd be successful.

Livia heard the lock disengaging and the door opened. A second later and she heard the kid they'd left to guard the door give a gasp of surprise as his eyes no doubt fell upon the bloody heap before him.

"T-Tater?" he said, his voice weak; breathless. "What's -"

Livia saw him come through the door and fell on him immediately after. The kid must've seen movement from the corner of his eye because he tried to turn and bring his gun up but she was already driving the blade of his dead friend's pocket knife into his chest; a grin stretching her lips as she felt it sink in completely.

The kid's hazel eyes bulged in pain and surprise and she heard his gun clatter loudly against the concrete as it fell from his hands. He gave a terrified squawk and his hands came up to grip her shoulders; perhaps trying to push her back. Livia snarled like a wild animal as she withdrew the blade and plunged it into him again. He made a weird keening sound, something caught halfway between a screech and a moan - maybe trying to call for help like Tater had - but then she was stabbing him over and over again. The blade met almost no resistance and he made no real effort to pull away; just made that horrible, trapped-animal noise as she turned him into the human version of a pin cushion and his blood splashed her naked body with more red warmth.

Soon he was falling to the ground and she with him. Growling and jibbering nonsensically, madly; she stabbed him again and again and again. Soon he quit making that odd screeching sound and his hands fell away as a look of pained confusion came into his eyes. He lay beneath her with his chest in a bloody ruin of stab wounds but apparently he was just as hard to kill as Tater had been. Finally, she grew tired of stabbing and reached up to draw the dripping blade across his wildly convulsing throat; opening him up from one ear to the other.

Livia heard running footsteps as he gurgled his last and she quickly stood again; tossing the knife as she spotted the gun he'd dropped. She snatched it up and gave it a quick once over with her eyes, nodding at what she saw. It was bigger than a nine millimeter but it was definitely an automatic and the design was at least familiar. She only checked to make sure the safety was off before she racked the slide and aimed at the open doorway.

The footsteps were close, very close now, and she held her breath to ready herself again as she shut her left eye and looked down the sights. That now familiar coldness quickly descended on her in a tight veil that covered her entire body; slowly sinking in and stilling the tremors in her hands while it slowed her heartbeat by half. Soon after the first man made it to the doorway and there was no hesitation as she shot him twice in the chest. 

This gun kicked in her hand much harder than the nine millimeter had but the distance was close enough that she probably could've closed both eyes and still hit what she was aiming at. He went down and Livia went to him, grabbing up the gun he'd dropped just as she heard more shouting and perhaps a dozen pairs of running footsteps at the end of the hall.

Barely sighting down the barrel again, Livia fired four more times in rapid succession. She fired wild, having no real time to aim, but she managed to drop two of the running men anyway; their bodies helping to trip up two others as they fell. She heard the whining buzz of a bullet passing her head, missing her by mere inches, and then she ducked back into the room again.

Strangely, she heard one of them shout, "No, you idiot! Don't fucking _shoot_ her!"

There were more sounds coming from down the hall, more stealthy footsteps as they were no doubt trying to sneak up on her, and she cried out, "The first man to poke his head through this doorway is going to get one right between his fucking eyes! Just try me, you bastards! Come and fucking try me!!"

Suddenly the sound of footsteps ceased and she heard them murmuring to one another; their voices far too low for her to make out what they were saying. She waited and waited but soon the voices fell silent again and there were no more clear indications of their approach. Were they scared? She hoped so. If they had any sense at all, they damn well should be.

"Come on, you fucking chickenshits!" she screamed, almost delirious with joy as the end finally drew near.

She was going to die, yes, but she'd already taken two or three of them down and wasn't this just wonderful? She couldn't have planned it more perfectly.

" _What're you waiting for?!_ " Livia shrieked at them, now laughing even as tears rolled down her cheeks. " _You afraid of a woman?! Come get me, you limp-dick motherfuckers!!_ "

She waited again, panting and smiling, but still she heard nothing. Deciding to hell with it, what the fuck's the worst that could happen, she stuck her upper torso outside of the doorway and fired on the first targets she saw. They were much closer than they'd been before, no more than thirty paces down the hall, and two of them dropped immediately; crying out their misery as bright red blood splashed up on the walls of the narrow hallway around them. She ducked back inside, expecting them to return fire, and when the gunshots did not come this time she felt her smile begin to die away.

_Why aren't they shooting back? What the fuck? What are they_ doing _out there?_

Livia wanted to poke her head out again and see but she was sure that they would return fire the moment she did and she'd decided that she wasn't quite done yet. No, not by far. She'd just let them come to her. They couldn't fit through the door all at the same time, she had them successfully bottle-necked, so let them come. She intended to shoot as many of them as she possibly could before they finally managed to put her down.

She could hear the men she'd shot still groaning, one of them sobbing like a little girl with a skinned knee, but all else was quiet. Goddamn it. What the _fuck_ were they doing? She didn't like this silence...it couldn't mean anything good for her.

Suddenly she heard an odd noise, something that sounded a little like the air tube thing they used at the drive thru windows at a bank, and a second later something cylindrical hit the doorframe and bounced into the room; landing only a foot or two away from where she stood. There came a loud hissing noise and she looked down to see a silver canister with white smoke billowing out of one end; coming up in a cloud and settling around her.

Livia began to choke as soon as she inhaled some of the stuff and she had to shut her eyes against the terrible burning, stinging sensation as it settled into her every orifice and sent helpless tears rolling down her blood-splattered cheeks. She moved away from the gas canister, waving her hands frantically in front of her face, but heard another one hit the ground and bounce; landing almost at her feet. She turned away and tried to draw in another breath but only got more gas; feeling as if she were drowning in the very air. Falling to her knees, she hacked and choked and clawed senselessly at her throat until she left long red scratch marks there.

The world began to dim and she could hear herself still gasping but she was lost in the clouds. Dropping down onto her uninjured side and curling up into the fetal position, she covered her face with her arms as if she could escape the gas that way. Seconds later she was out, the hissing sound of knockout gas following her as she floated away; untethered from the rest of the world and left adrift in a darkness that seemed to go on forever.


	44. Chapter 44

Livia felt something touching her face, some soft fluttery thing tickling under her nose, and she tried to lift her head to get away from it. As soon as she did a terrible bolt of agony seized her and she cried out as it flashed through her neck, shoulders and arms before it burrowed relentlessly into the back of her skull. Tears ran from her eyes as the pain twisted burning fingers into her muscles, setting her nerves on fire and sending her mind reeling from the sheer force of it. She shook uncontrollably in its throes and heard chains rattle somewhere above her; too preoccupied by the misery in her upper half to comprehend yet what that meant. She just squeezed her eyes shut tight against the pain and waited until it began to fade before she tried moving again.

Slowly, slowly, she raised her chin from where it lay upon her chest. Inch by inch her head lifted higher and she stopped several times when there was a sharp twinge in her neck; sure that horrible pain would seize her once more. But it didn't and she finally managed to bring her head all the way up, opening her eyes and blinking several times until the world before her came into focus.

She was inside a narrow room with filthy cinder block walls and concrete floors that looked almost identical to the room she'd been held in before. She was beneath a bright white light and she looked up, squinting against that harsh glare, to see that her body was hanging limply from metal cuffs that were closed tightly around her wrists. Attached to the cuffs by way of a loop were thick metal chains that ran all the way up and they were set wide to keep her arms as far apart as possible. Similarly, her ankles were bound by more cuffs and these were attached to much shorter chains that ran though big metal loops bolted into the cement floor, also set wide apart, so that she was forced to stand there spread-eagle.

Looking down at herself with her hair hanging in her face, she could see that she was still naked and covered in blood; could even taste a hint of it lingering on her lips. Biker blood. How many had she killed? It didn't matter as long as it had been excruciating for them at the end; as long as they had suffered as much as she had.

Then, raising her head to finally look at the person standing in front of her, she saw with zero surprise that it was Deke. He was standing close enough to touch and those cat eyes of his were looking down at her, crinkling at the corners when he smiled. Unfettered and looking resplendent in a pristine white t-shirt and plain black cargo pants, his motorcycle boots polished to a high shine, she hated and feared him in equal measures. She didn't have to guess the reason he had her strung up like this. It seemed her time of suffering was not yet over.

He was holding a long white feather in one hand and, as her eyes traveled the length of his muscular arms, she saw that the skin below his sleeves had been covered with so many tattoos that there didn't seem to be an unmarked inch left on him. Most of the tattoos looked semi-professional - a few of them were actually pretty artistic - but underneath a lot of them she could see ghosts of the old ones he'd tried to cover up; possibly prison tats. Hadn't somebody mentioned him being locked up before? Had Chef said that? Or had it been Tater? She couldn't remember. Shit, she could hardly think straight.

She watched Deke drop the feather and for a moment he stood perfectly still, watching her as it seesawed lazily down to land on the floor at his feet. Then his lips spread into an even wider grin as her eyes met his again but she wasn't out of it enough to mistake it for a happy one. Above the shiny white blocks of his teeth those beautiful green eyes burned with rage that almost matched her own; focusing the entirety of his hatred on her sweaty, half-hidden face.

"Glad to see you're still with us," he said, his voice a low rumble that couldn't mask his contempt even through a smile. "Sleep well?"

Her mouth was incredibly dry, her tongue parched and cracking apart like the hardpan of the Grand Senora Desert, and Livia rolled what little spit she could muster around in her mouth to get rid of the taste of blood and to help grease the wheels a little. Clearing her throat with a harsh sound, she finally answered, "Fuck you. Let me out of these goddamned chains right now."

Ignoring her demand, he asked, "I bet you weren't expecting to wake up again, were you?"

"Fuck you," she repeated, shaking her arms and making her chains rattle for emphasis. "Get this shit off of me."

"Too bad for you that your little suicide mission didn't pan out," he said, continuing as if she hadn't spoken at all. "Because now I'm gonna have to show you my ugly side."

Unable to stop herself, Livia felt her upper lip curl in disgust as she shot back back at him, "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently? Every side of you is fucking ugly."

Deke's smile finally morphed into the furious look he'd tried so hard to hide and his eyes stayed locked on hers as he shouted, "You killed five of my guys, you pig-headed bitch!" She didn't flinch but she did notice the way his hand shook as he jabbed an accusatory finger toward her face and held it there. It took him a moment but he finally regained control, lowering his hand and taking a step back. His sneer had faded and his voice was almost normal again when he continued, "I was planning on taking it easy on you - as easy as I could, anyway - but you just had to go and fuck that all up, didn't you?"

"I only killed five?" she asked, showing him her own dead-eyed grin. "Too bad. I was hoping for more."

His hand flashed out so quick that she didn't know what was happening before his knuckles connected with her face and her nose exploded in pain. Her head snapped back, bringing back that sudden white-hot flare of misery, and then fell forward until it was hanging low near her chest again. She held the chains above her as the pain wracked her body, gripping them until her knuckles were white as black spots danced in front of her eyes in a way that was all too familiar; like watching a long-forgotten home movie from childhood. The pain was so large, so huge, that she was left gasping from it, making a weird "uh, uh, uh, uh" sound that she could barely hear over the roar of agony in her face, neck and shoulders.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the pain began to recede again and she sniffled blood up through her rapidly swelling nose as tears ran from her eyes. Then, surprising even herself, she began to laugh.

It was a broken, not-quite-sane laugh that she had never heard coming from her mouth before; a scary sound that made her think of Trevor's black eyes and the way they always seemed to look right through her when he was angry. She lifted her head again, crying out against the twinge of pain before laughing even harder as more tears rolled down her cheeks and blood poured down over her mouth and chin. After a few seconds the quality of her laughter began to change, sounding more and more like wheezy, hysterical screams before finally slowing and tapering off.

Opening her eyes again, she saw Deke standing over her, _towering_ over her, and when she saw the stony look on his face she let out a high-pitched giggle before setting her face into a strange mockery of curiosity. "I bet that makes you feel like a big man, don't it?" she asked, coughing out a bit of blood before swallowing even more. "Beating on a helpless woman? I don't wanna look down. Your little pecker getting hard or what?" She saw the way his head jerked as if she'd swung at him, those cat-eyes widening, and knew she'd struck a nerve. Now smiling wide enough to show every speck of blood coating her teeth, she doubled down and added, "Or do you even have one? Because, honestly, you hit like a bitch."

That look of contempt on his face had deepened, turning into something murderous, and she felt hopeful for a moment. But it was only for a moment because he did nothing but stand there staring; breathing hard through flared nostrils and clenching his big hands into fists that shook slightly.

"You're just as fucking crazy as he is, aren't you?" Deke asked in a strangled voice, obviously holding himself back with what had to have been tremendous willpower. He took another deep breath and let it out slow before his own mouth turned up at the corners again; a trembling semblance of a smile. "But I know what you're trying to do. You're hoping I get so mad that I forget what we're here for...that I'll just fly off the handle and put a bullet between those pretty blue eyes of yours before I get what I want out of you."

He shook his head and waggled one finger at her as if scolding a puppy who had piddled on the rug; his big knuckles smeared with traces of her blood. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, Livia, but it's not going to work," Deke told her as the red slowly faded from his cheeks and forehead. "We're not done here yet. Not by a country fucking mile. We've got a loooong night ahead of us...and you aren't getting out of it that easy."

Livia suddenly spat at him, a little gob of red tinged with white, hoping to reach his face and only hitting the shining tip on one of his big black motorcycle boots instead. Deke gave a short laugh before turning to his left, suddenly facing away from her. Raising his voice a little, he spoke to the only other person in the room, a man that she'd been unaware of until that very moment, "Audie, bring the belt, would you?"

Livia's heart began to race as she turned her head to look in that direction and saw the skinny guy with the long, greasy black hair move toward a low table set against one wall. There was a rumpled white sheet draped over it and he grabbed one end and whipped it off with a quick flick of his scrawny wrist. She couldn't see everything that was on the table but she could see enough to make her stomach drop as suddenly as an elevator with a snapped cable. Various tools and objects littered the scarred wooden surface; ordinary everyday things that this piece of shit no doubt intended to use in inventive new ways to torture her. Pliers, nails, a hammer, a pair of hedge clippers, several knives ranging from ridiculously big to surprisingly small, a funnel, a big bottle of high proof liquor, and a long white canister with a strange nozzle at one end that she suspected to be a blowtorch. She could tell right away what some of them would be used for and as for the others...well, maybe it was better not to speculate too much on the possible uses for those.

The skinny guy, Audie, grabbed a wide black leather belt with little metal studs set in it and came over to where she hung suspended from the ceiling. He saw Livia watching him as he handed it over and he gave her big smile, showing those unexpected pearly whites of his again. The scratch on his face still looked quite raw, a long red furrow in his flesh, and she had time to wish that she'd been able to scratch one of his muddy brown eyes out before she dismissed him from her mind.

Then Deke was coming closer, circling her as he ran the belt through his hands and looked over the stretched line of her body. He circled her several times, biting his lower lip as color flushed his cheeks again, and finally came to a stop directly behind her.

Livia tried not to shake, not to visibly show fear, but she couldn't help herself. She was afraid, terribly afraid, but not of the beating so much as what would come after. This was just preamble; foreplay before he really began to go to work on her. He would break her, she knew suddenly, her heart and mind suffocating in the black void of hopelessness that now consumed her. He would break her and there was nothing she could do to stop him because now that colder presence was gone. Just when she'd needed it the most it had deserted her. There wasn't even the faintest glimmer of that other Livia left and she knew she was not strong enough to hold out on her own. Not for long, anyway.

She felt one of Deke's hands come up to cup her left butt cheek and squeeze hard enough to really hurt; digging thick digits into her flesh until it felt like he was trying to rip it off. She winced but bit her lips against the cry of discomfort that tried to escape her. He would win in the end but she would keep quiet for as long as she was able...she had to try to do that much.

"It's no wonder Tater's dumbass jumped the gun a little with you," Deke said, his mouth close enough to her ear that she could feel his moustache tickling her sensitive skin. "You're a good-looking gal...and he never was able to pass up an opportunity to get his dick wet."

He squeezed her harder for a moment before finally releasing her and now he was running one finger up her spine; eliciting a shiver of dread from her as he came to a stop between her shoulder blades. He pressed his mouth even closer and now she could feel his lips moving as he whispered, "Maybe I'll take a run at you myself before we're through. Would you like that?" He nipped at her earlobe and she gasped, causing him to give an amused grunt before admitting, "Probably not. But...I think I would like it quite a bit."

And as he pressed his huge body up against hers so that she could feel hardness beneath the fly of his jeans, hot and throbbing obscenely against her bare flesh, she realized that she'd been right before. Deke _liked_ this. His pecker - not such a little one after all - really had been getting hard. Images of Trevor flitted through her mind, ghosts of what she'd felt like in the beginning, and she wondered if it had been like this for him. Either way, she knew instinctively that this time she'd take no pleasure in what happened to her. Deke would probably take great lengths to make sure that she couldn't feel anything other than pain.

Livia shivered again and closed her eyes, shaking her head at his murmured question but saying nothing. She was too afraid to open her mouth at all now; worried that she would say anything he wanted if only he would promise to give her a quick death instead of this slow descent into agony that awaited her...which was exactly what he wanted, she knew. This was all part of the plan, Tater had told her as much just before she'd silenced him forever. She shouldn't be surprised that Deke still planned to rape her even though he hated her; sexual attraction had very little to do with what he had in mind. It was about dominance, about exerting power over her in every way that he could, that was what floated this bastard's particular boat. For her it would be just another form of torture, one designed to break her mentally as well as physically.

Deke swept the tangled locks of her hair from the back of her neck and she felt his hand come around to press against her lower belly; grinding his pelvis slow and hard against her backside. His breathing was becoming quicker, harsher and more labored with every intake of air. He was getting too excited and if he didn't stop soon he was going to come right there in his pants before he could even carry out this new threat...so Livia hoped, anyway.

But just as suddenly he was stepping back, still breathing hard enough for her to hear even over the terrified beat of blood in her ears, and then the first lick of the belt came across the back of her thighs. The searing pain of the metal studs striking her flesh made her jerk in her chains, biting her lips against the scream trying to force its way out of her. She heard Deke chuckle to himself and then came the sound of his belt whistling through the air again just before it hit her lower back and licked around her right side to snap against her thigh.

That whistling sound came again and again; printing fiery stripes on her skin that seemed to suck the breath out of her each time. Soon her body was marked from her shoulders all the way down to her calves with welts that grew hotter as they began swelling up. Deke was in a frenzy; hitting her over and over again until she was dancing on the balls of her feet in a futile attempt to avoid the blows. She tried to keep her mouth shut but sixty seconds in and she was sobbing and trying to beg for mercy in the same exact way she had when taking beatings with a belt from her father as a child... though the pain was much worse than it had been then. The belt hit her maybe two dozen times before she gave up trying to avoid it and hung there limply from the cuffs; her mouth open and howling helplessly as the pain sunk its jagged teeth deeper and deeper into her body. 

When he finally stopped she could barely breathe, could barely think, and every nerve in her body buzzed and crackled with searing, electric pain. Her face was wet with blood, snot and tears and she could hear her cries echoing off of the walls in the tiny room; cruelly mocking her again and again. Then she felt him drawing closer suddenly, could feel the heat of him being absorbed into the rising welts criss-crossing her and making them burn even hotter, and she shuddered; too exhausted to move away. She knew what was coming next, could tell by his shallow, excited breathing as well as by how close he was, and now she only hoped that she could take it without her mind snapping like a dry twig.

She heard Deke drop the belt on the floor and then sensed more than heard the movement as he undid the fly and zipper of his pants. She felt his fingers grip her hips, digging into the welts there, and then he was lifting her until she was positioned over the swollen head of his cock. More spit on a hand to help guide the transition and then he was ramming himself into her anus; ripping into her vulnerable flesh as easily as a knife.

She screamed again, now burning on the inside as well as the outside, and he didn't waste time letting her adjust the way Trevor had done. Her comfort was the least of his concerns at the moment and he began to pump in and out of her savagely; brutally stabbing forward each time to sink the pain in deeper and deeper. She sobbed in a broken-hearted, hopeless way and he grunted like an animal as he wrapped an arm around her throat and began choking her; cutting off some of her air and making her cries even more weak and pathetic.

Deke's mouth was against her ear again, snapping and biting as he shuddered with pleasure. Livia tried desperately to hold onto the chains with her last bit of strength as she told herself that it would be over soon; that he couldn't last long with the way he was going. But she was wrong - so wrong - and the tips of her toes were now barely brushing the floor as he held her up too high for her to plant her feet in any way; forcing her backside to take the brunt of the impact each time he thrusted up and forward. It felt like he was gouging and tearing her apart, the pain growing worse with every passing second, and it wasn't long before she felt a slickness back there that should've helped but somehow only made the stinging more unbearable.

Soon her feet weren't touching the floor anymore at all and both of his arms were squeezing tight, crushing her down onto him as he went faster and faster; moaning way back in his throat as his cock pistoned in and out of her at a crazy pace. Livia gasped for air, writhing against him in a way that seemed to excite him even more, and she tried to speak again; tried to make him stop even though she knew it was pointless.

"...p-please..." she managed to choke out, hating the pleading whine of her voice and yet unable to stop herself. She was at his mercy and there was no sense in trying to be strong anymore; no reason to pretend to be something she wasn't. "Oh, God...stop... _please_..."

But his arm only tightened around her neck and abdomen even harder and he fucked her faster and faster; the change in his pockets jingling as they jostled together at his ankles. His lips pressed against the cup of her ear, when he spoke each word was punctuated by another brutal upward thrust, "How's that feel, you murdering bitch? Does that hurt as much as I hope it does?"

He gave an angry laugh and suddenly bit into her neck, suckling on it hard enough to leave a mark as red as blood even though he only did it for a moment. Pulling away, he was soon grunting in her ear again, "Your asshole is gonna be big enough to park a jumbo jet in there before I'm through with you. What do you think about that, bitch?" He laughed again and his arms tightened until he was crushing her, her whole body just a patchwork of pain with the place where they were joined as the apex. "Maybe I should fuck you in every hole until you're bleeding just like this." He chuckled and growled and she could feel the savage grin on his face even though she couldn't see it as he continued, "You think it hurts now? _You don't know real pain_." Another growling laugh and he gave made a strange, choked noise before he whispered, "Not yet."

He gave a sudden, guttural cry of release - as if the thought of hurting her even worse had sent him over the edge - and then he was choking her even harder; completely cutting off her air and holding her down as hard as he could in order to reach maximum depth when his cock began to convulse inside of her. Sudden, horrible warmth shot into the stinging center of her pain and she would've screamed out her revulsion and agony if she'd been able to draw any breath at the time. Deke jerked a few times and she could feel her face burning and tingling from the need to breathe as he finished emptying himself inside of her. Then his arms were slowly loosening, allowing her to gasp desperately for air again, and she could feel him drawing himself slowly out of her before finally releasing her.

Once he withdrew, she felt a gush of hot liquid - a mixture of his semen and her blood - leaving her before it began sliding slowly down her legs to wet her thighs. She gagged helplessly again and again at the feel and thought of it; only holding back from puking because their was nothing to purge. She heard Deke chuckling to himself again before he was telling Audie to bring him some wet wipes.

Livia hung there sobbing in defeat as the pain in her backside began to fade a little at a time; letting her head fall so that her chin rested on her chest even though it hurt her neck and shoulders terribly to do so. Everything hurt, just breathing in and out hurt, and this slick feeling running down the inside of her legs was one humiliation too fucking much. She couldn't do this anymore...she _couldn't_. She'd do anything, _anything_ , so that this pain would stop once and for all. Only death could be a mercy now.

Deke gave them both a moment of rest and then she heard him coming close again, approaching her from the front this time. She tried to turn her face away, shutting her eyes tight because she didn't think she could bear the sight of him, but he grabbed her chin in his hand and jerked it back in his direction.

"Look," he said, giving her head a shake that sent more tendrils of pain creeping through her neck and shoulders. "Open your eyes and look, you stupid, murdering cunt."

Livia didn't want to but she couldn't resist his demand. She really was at his mercy, all hope now decayed within her heart, and she did as he said before he even had to repeat himself. Held up so that she could see the light shining on it was a knife much bigger than the one she'd taken from Tater's pocket less than twenty four hours ago; a six inch blade with an edge so sharp it looked like it could skin a crocodile.

"This is what's gonna happen now," Deke told her, turning the knife back and forth so that it was flashing in the light overhead. "I'm gonna start cutting you unless you tell me where your boyfriend's hiding. Maybe I'll take the tip of your finger, or a lobe from your ear...maybe even one of those rosy pink nipples he no doubt enjoyed so much. I like to get creative, you know? And, hey, don't worry because there's no danger of you bleeding to death, okay? We came prepared and they'll just be little things, things you'll barely miss...at first." He gave a sigh of pleasure, probably from the aftereffects of his orgasm only minutes ago as much as from the anticipation of the pain he was about to inflict on her. "If you insist on being stubborn, well... then we'll have to up the ante. A finger here, a toe there. Maybe your eyelids just for fun." He turned the knife back and forth, back and forth, the deadly edge flashing faster and faster in her eyes. "The rest of your life will be spent in so much more pain than you can imagine, Livia...so fucking much that I promise you'll be raving and begging to tell me before we're through. So..." He trailed off and suddenly smiled, trying to turn on what little charm he had as his hazy green eyes locked onto hers. "I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what I want to know before I show you just how bad shit can really get."

Livia sucked in a deep breath and stared back into those beautiful, evil eyes of his; knowing in her heart that he meant it. "D-don't," she begged, her voice so thick with tears that she hardly recognized the sound of her own voice. "Please, don't...I...I'll tell you the truth. I swear to fucking God, I'll tell you where he is...just don't hurt me anymore."

Deke's smile widened and he began to tap the blade against the flat plain of his palm. "Okay," he said, that blade flashing so fast now that it winked like a strobe light. "But no more playing around, Livia. Spit it out."

_I'm sorry,_ she thought, hating herself and yet knowing that it didn't make a bit of difference. She couldn't take anymore...the sick piece of shit had finally won. _I'm so fucking sorry, Trevor. Please, forgive me._

And so, choking back a sob, she opened her mouth to do just that - to do anything he wanted if only he would promise to end her life - when an explosion rocked the building from somewhere outside. She let out a startled cry, swaying on her feet as her chains rattled, and a moment later dust drifted down from overhead. She watched, her mouth now open from shock, as both Deke and Audie stumbled; their eyes going wide.

Livia heard confused shouts from somewhere and then a sudden barrage of gunshots drowned them out; coming from at least two different directions at the exact same time. Livia hung there naked, bleeding and beaten, but her pain was swallowed up by a new thing. A surging, swelling, euphoric feeling of relief and hope bloomed inside; making her lips stretch into a grin once more. Listening to the Lost screaming in fear in between the gunshots was like the sweetest music she'd ever heard and she jerked on her chains, mindlessly jittering with joy. Even though just seconds before her one hope had been to die quickly, this new hope was now taking over; swelling up like a balloon inside her head and heart. It was a feeling that she had rarely experienced in life, this beacon in the dark that whispered that maybe all wasn't lost just yet.

Deke had a gun in one hand now, something big and flashy and impractical, and his green eyes were busy trying to eat up his face. She noted the gathering sweat on his brow, how his lips pressed together in a thin line as the color drained from his face, and how his hand shook more than a little as he held his ridiculous gun up in the ready position.

Even though the pain was still burning there somewhere underneath everything, it couldn't crowd out the joy in her heart at the sight of his fear and she laughed again as she said, "Looks like you know exactly where he is now. You could've just waited an hour and saved your fucking breath."

Deke's eyes flicked over at her and she saw him swallow hard; sweat pouring rivers down both sides of his face now. He looked away just as quickly and had to clear his throat before he could speak again, "Au-Audie, I need you to go see what the fuck is going on out there. I...I'll stay here and watch h-" His face cramped into a sudden look of fury, coloring his paper-white face again, "Audie, goddamn it, are you listening to me?!"

If Deke looked scared then Audie looked fucking terrified and it had the odd effect of making him seem far younger than his years; slapping the age from his face until he was just a little boy scared of the boogeyman hiding in his closet. He jerked his head to one side, greasy locks flying, and finally looked back at Deke as if just remembering that he was there.

"Huh?" he said, nearly gasping as his own pistol shook in his hands. "Wh-what'd you say?"

Deke's mouth turned up into a trembling sneer as he grabbed the much smaller man by one shoulder and shoved him so hard toward the door that he almost fell. "Go see what's going on!" he screamed at him, making Audie cringe. "Now, you fucking idiot!!!"

Any other time that probably would've sent him running immediately to obey but he was more frightened by the madness outside than he was of Deke and Audie didn't want to go. He hesitated, breathing hard and fast through his open mouth, and shot a glance at Deke and then another at Livia before taking his first shaky step forward.

Deke was quickly losing what little patience he had, baring his teeth like an angry dog as he found a target to focus his ire on. " _Go_ ," he snarled, suddenly leveling his pistol at Audie's head. "Or I swear to God I'll shoot you my fucking self."

That finally got him moving and he went for the door, almost tripping over his own two feet as he wrenched it open and took a step into the hall. The gunshots and screams were louder now, sounding a lot closer, and Audie gave one last terrified look at Deke; licking his thin lips as his old/young face softened into a wordlessly pleading expression.

" _ **GOOOO**_!!!" Deke roared at him, spit flying from his lips and eyes bulging from their sockets, and Livia would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy watching him become more and more unhinged as the seconds passed.

So Audie went, slamming the door shut again and muffling the nightmarish cacophony awaiting him. Deke slowly backed farther away from the door and came to stand just behind and off to one side of Livia. He was breathing just as hard as Audie had been; his eyes so big that she could see more white than green in them now.

"Okay," he said, his deep voice sounding scratchy; as if he'd ripped something in his throat with that last scream. "Shit, shit. Okay."

He seemed to be working hard to pull himself out of his state of shock; closing his eyes and slowing his breathing down until it was somewhat normal again. Finally his eyes opened and he looked right at her, speaking as if he were talking to her instead of himself, "I can fucking do this. Yeah....yeah. Everything's going to be -"

Another burst of gunfire, this one coming from only a room away, cut him off and his face was bloodless once more; his false calm gone just as suddenly as he had made it appear. Now he was the one who looked like a scared little kid nearly shitting his pants.

"Fuck," he whispered, glancing at the door before looking back at Livia again. She watched the realization dawn on his face that things had truly and completely gone to shit and maybe, just maybe, he was about to pay for everything he'd done tonight. " _Fuck_."

Suddenly she began to laugh all over again, that bright bubbly sound that seemed so out of place and yet somehow right. Tears streaming from her bloodshot eyes, she howled and shook in her chains like a madwoman; her laughter echoing and seeming to fill the room as the sound of gunfire outside finally stopped.


	45. Chapter 45

"Shut the fuck up!" Deke hissed, coming close enough to grip the tangled bulk of Livia's hair in one fist and yank her head back. When she only laughed harder, the pain dampening nothing, he shoved the barrel of his gun against her temple and screamed, " _Stop laughing!!_ "

But Livia couldn't - even with a gun to her head - she couldn't stop laughing any more than she could've given up breathing. Her laughter soared, filling the room, growing louder and louder; quickly changing into those awful, insane screams of gut-wrenching hilarity. She could feel Deke's huge hand twisting-pulling-tightening in her hair but it had the opposite effect of what he'd intended and she laughed all the harder. She was laughing at him, at herself, at everything. She could smell sweat and blood and the acrid stink of burnt gunpowder in the air, still couldn't think straight because the room had begun spinning around her like an out-of-control top, and every bone and muscle and tendon in her body ached and throbbed like a rotten tooth...but somehow it was all just so fucking _funny_. Her pain, the death, the impending violence - it was all hilarious in a sick, horrible way that she could never explain to anyone; not even herself. It didn't matter that Deke could blow her head off any second, she had to let it out before she simply cracked apart. Only when it was ready to die on its own did her laughter finally begin to fade; slowly diminishing until they were down to breathless hiccups and giggles that made her snort half-congealed blood up through her painfully swollen nostrils.

As the seconds ticked by the room gradually stopped spinning drunkenly around her and settled again; allowing her a few seconds to catch her breath and come back to a state of mind that could almost be called sanity. She was still smiling as her body shook with each pulse of pain that continuously ran through her, and she turned her head a little - ripping out a good-sized chunk of hair in the process - to catch the barest glimpse of Deke's sweaty, terrified face next to hers.

She spoke to him in a conspirator's whisper through the smile, "You know you're going to die, don't you?"

"Shut up!" he barked at her, those pretty eyes bulging out of their sockets again as his hand tightened in her hair to the point where she thought her entire scalp might rip off in his meaty fingers. "Not another goddamned word!"

Livia thought the chances were fairly good he wouldn't shoot her and give up his last bargaining chip but, shit, anything was possible now. Deke had his back against the wall and it was pure folly to try and predict what any cornered animal might do next in that situation. Even a rabbit will turn and face the pursuing wolf when there's nowhere left to run and nowhere left to hide. It wasn't outside the realm of possibilty that he'd decide killing her was his last chance to really hurt Trevor; his last chance to show everyone just how big his balls were. If she could get him to leave the room somehow...

"If you run you might make it," she said, striving to make her voice sound as sane and reasonable as possible as she let the smile slowly fade from her lips. "I mean... who knows? Maybe you'll find a window to jump out of or something. If you stay here, well...I think it's safe to say that your running days are probably over."

The hand tangled in her hair loosened a little, as if he were considering it, before twisting in even deeper; something she could barely feel when compared to the pain she felt throughout the rest of her body.

" _I'm not running_ ," he growled at her, speaking through tightly clenched teeth. He was desperately trying to hold on to his rage, she knew, holding onto it with the panicky tightness of a man who was already dying. Anything to drive out the fear; anything to make himself believe he could still win this.

"You're almost out of time," she told him, struggling against his hand so that she could make eye contact with him again. "If Trevor catches you in here with me -"

Another shriek of horror and agony from the next room over cut through her words; something so shockingly loud and close that both of them froze like deer in the headlights. The scream went on and on, cycling up, up, until it reached such an unbelievably high note that it sounded more like a woman's voice than a man's. Livia wondered how a person could hold such breath in them just before that terrible, keening cry of agony was abruptly cut off. Only silence followed and Deke shifted until he was all the way behind her now. He was shaking against her battered backside, his terrified, panting breath blowing into her ear again; so close that Livia could feel the welts covering her absorbing his body heat once more.

"Well...shit," she whispered. "That kinda sounded like it could've been Audie, huh?"

"Shut up," he told her, his voice breathless and frightened again; his anger faded by the force of that horrible scream. "Just... just shut the fuck up."

They both jumped in unison as automatic weapon fire rattled the door in its frame and, drawing close enough to lay his sweaty cheek against her badly bruised neck, Deke lay his arm over her right shoulder; finally pointing his gun at the door as the barrel wavered wildly from side to side. He was trying to hide behind her, to use her as a human shield to protect himself from any bullets that might be coming his way, but Livia was much shorter and slimmer than he was. So much so that, even though she couldn't see how ridiculous he must look, she smiled at the thought. It was like an elephant trying to hide behind a fence post.

Everything outside the room had fallen silent again. No more screaming men, no more gun shots, just... nothing.

Seconds passed with agonizing slowness and eventually those seconds turned into minutes. Still nothing. Livia could feel Deke's body shaking harder than ever against hers; could almost taste the heady flavor of mortal terror with his every exhalation of breath. When she saw the light underneath the door suddenly wink out, she thought, _He really should've run when he had a chance_.

Moments later the doorknob turned and it shuddered open, creaking loudly in the silence, revealing only pitch-black darkness beyond the threshold. She watched Deke's finger slowly tightening on the trigger but apparently he had more control over himself than she'd suspected because he didn't start firing automatically. Perhaps as many as fifteen seconds passed and, when no one appeared in the doorway, his finger slowly loosened again. She was pleased to see that his hand was shaking harder than ever; the barrel of his stupid-looking gun jittering to and fro. Even if he did start shooting, the chances were good he'd miss everything he aimed at.

"Audie?!" Deke called out in his damaged, frightened voice. "H-hey! That you, man?!"

Of course there was no answer but some primal part of Livia sensed movement out there anyway. Then her eyes caught the briefest glimpse of a paler color moving out there before something came sailing into the room directly at them.

It fell short, however, hitting the floor three feet away from where they stood with an awful, wet-sounding crunch. Forward momentum kept it going as it rolled awkwardly toward them. At first she thought it was an oddly shaped ball of some kind - a half-deflated volleyball? - with weird black streamers affixed to one side of it. Then she saw the splotchy blood trail it left behind and realized what it was even before it came to a complete stop near her feet. She looked down to see Audie's sallow face there just beneath her; his blood-splattered left cheek lying on the dirty concrete and his open eyes rolled up to show the whites. He'd been decapitated below his rather large adam's apple and the ragged end of his neck was still dripping with blood and trailing the shredded remains of muscle and tissue.

She felt Deke stiffen against her as his breath caught in his barrel-like chest when he recognized the face of his former 'brother'. Again, time seemed to stretch out, each second doubling and tripling itself somehow, and then Deke was scooping in a huge breath through the hanging trapdoor of his open mouth. In the next instant he let it all out again in an incredible roar right next to her head; nearly deafening her. It was a confusing mixture of emotion she heard in that scream, something that contained all of his hurt and fear and anger and disbelief; an outpouring of horror that could never be adequately expressed with words.

She felt his free arm wrap around her middle, clutching at her with clumsy, panicked fingers as he began shooting blindly into that rectangle of darkness ahead. Firing high, firing low and firing wild, he pulled the trigger again and again as Livia squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away from the hot casings that came flying toward her face. He screamed and screamed, his voice cutting in and out like a far-away radio station thanks to his damaged vocal chords. Even though there was still that odd stretching of time in Livia's perception, in reality it took less than five seconds before Deke's clip was empty.

When the gun stopped firing and began to click uselessly in his hand, she felt him draw back and slightly away from her so that he could frantically search his pockets for another clip. She prayed to all the gods that ever were or would be that he wouldn't find one, that his gun would jam, that he'd accidentally shoot himself in the foot - anything to keep him from reloading in time. She watched as he finally found a clip and fumbled with it; trying to put in it backwards at first. Then something was moving off to her left and she turned her head to look that way again.

Livia's own breath caught in her chest as her eyes fell upon Trevor. Stalking into the room with swift, purposeful strides, his dark eyes full of murderous rage, he carried a huge automatic rifle and he was covered in blood from head to toe as if he'd actually decided to try bathing in it. She let out a thoughtless cry of joy, a strange noise that sounded as much like a laugh as it did a sob, but - for the moment, at least - Trevor only had eyes for Deke.

He was still behind her, cursing under his breath as he finally managed to slam the clip into his gun, simultaneously exposing even more of his massive frame when he took a step back. He began to raise his gun again but his hands were shaking so badly that he almost dropped it and that moment - no longer than a heartbeat in time - proved to be his undoing.

Trevor sighted down the barrel of his assault rifle and took a single shot. Livia felt hot blood splatter high up on her leg as Deke took the projectile in his right knee and then he was falling backward, hitting the concrete with a cry of pain that she could still barely hear over the ringing in her ears.

Livia hardly took notice of him as he screamed and clutched at his pulverized kneecap with both hands; his gun now forgotten off to one side as blood poured from between his fingers. He continued to scream, bellowing as loudly as a freight train, but at that moment he might as well have ceased to exist to her. All she could see was Trevor as he came closer to where she was strung up. He was finally looking back at her now and she watched as his eyes changed, softening, and then his furious expression was quickly breaking apart at the seams; his mouth trembling and eyes leaking.

Livia saw his lips shape the sound of her name but she couldn't hear him; could barely hear anything at all. But it didn't matter, none of it mattered, because he was there. He had found her, come for her, and now everything was going to be alright. Somehow everything would be okay again.

Movement in the corner of her eye and then Franklin was entering the room carrying his own automatic rifle. Then, following close behind him, came another surprise. Michael De Santa looking completely out of place with his own gun and blood already soaking into the pants of his expensive looking suit.

Livia felt a faint smile curve her mouth as she thought, _Poor choice of clothing, Mikey. I doubt even dry cleaning could get that out._

She watched as they moved toward where Deke lay screaming words she couldn't quite hear as he held one bloody hand up to them in surrender. Then Trevor shifted a little, blocking all of them from her sight, and suddenly it was just the two of them again.

Livia felt Trevor's warm hands come up to frame her throbbing face; his rifle hanging low at his side and dangling from the strap over his shoulder. His face took up all the space in her vision now and she watched as it shifted rapidly through a kaleidoscope of emotions; finally settling on a strange mixture of sorrow and disbelief. He was crying, she saw, crying _hard_ , and she watched his lips move as they shaped the words, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" over and over again.

She leaned her forehead against his, whispering words to him that she couldn't hear anymore than anyone else's, "It's okay. It's okay, Trevor. I'm all right now." 

Trevor kissed her and she strained forward until their lips were smashed together, not caring that it hurt. He had come, he had finally come, and everything made sense again. This wasn't the end.

The ringing was slowly fading in her ears in the few minutes it took Frank to find the release for the cuffs. A second later she was sagging forward into Trevor's waiting arms. He lifted her, cradling her battered body to his chest like a baby for a moment; his hands finding the welts laddering her back, buttocks, and thighs. She could see the rage rising up inside of him again like a physical thing, overshadowing the pain and guilt in his eyes as she winced even from the gentle pressure of his touch.

Livia could still hear Deke behind them, now sobbing like a baby from the excruciating pain in his exploded kneecap, but she heard Trevor's whisper so much clearer than that, his warm breath tickling the little hairs in her ear canal as he said, "What did they do to you? Oh...oh fuck, Livia...your _back_..."

"He wanted me to give you up," she said, brushing the tips of her fingers over his trembling lips and wiping away the tears that had gathered there. She gave him a tired smile, "I didn't want to."

Trevor gingerly wiped some of the half-congealed blood and snot from her upper lip with the side of one hand; being careful to avoid her nose. "I'm so fucking sorry," he said, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I...I went crazy trying to find you....I went back to the truck and you weren't there...I went home and you weren't there, either." More tears slowly slipped down from his eyes to wet his cheeks, "You weren't at Franklin's or Michael's and I...I did everything I could to find you as fast as I could."

"I know," she said, laying her hand on the stubble shadowing his cheek.

His eyes trapped her with his own, once again shining with misery and regret. "I was going out of my fucking mind. I thought I'd lost you, darlin'." He clasped her closer to his chest and his voice cracked as he repeated, "I'm so sorry."

"Shhhh," she said, leaning her head on his chest and closing her eyes and sighing at the feel of his warm flesh beneath hers once again. It was something she'd thought would never happen again...yet here she was. "Everything's okay now."

He pressed another careful kiss onto her forehead and breathed deeply of her scent as if to reassure himself that she was really there in his arms. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice low and muffled against her unmarred skin; drawing a shudder of anticipation from her at the vicious edge she heard creeping into it. "But it soon will be. I promise you that."

Then Trevor was gently setting her on her feet again and Franklin was there to support her; at her side so quickly that he must've been standing by just waiting for his chance to help somehow. Frank took off his jacket and, like the gentleman he'd always shown himself to be, covered her nakedness; his eyes sad and politely cast down at her feet as he zipped the too-large hoody up to her neck. She leaned against his shoulder, giving him a brief hug before she turned to watch Trevor head toward where Deke lay bleeding and moaning on the floor. 

Michael stepped back and around as Trevor approached, keeping his rifle trained on Deke's head; never once losing focus.

Trevor's own rifle stayed at his side and he stood over the big biker with his head lowered and his hands slowly yet rhythmically squeezing into fists at his sides. "You wanted to find me," he said, his voice a growl that sent goosebumps racing up and down Livia's battered body. "Here I am."

Deke's unusual green eyes were devouring the rest of his too-white face again and Livia stepped away from Franklin's supporting arm as he said, "Look, man. Just...just listen, okay?" He shifted a little and gave a strangled cry of pain as his knee shifted with him. He was sweating profusely, his once glorious mustache looking more and more like a drowned rat he'd stapled to his upper lip, and his bloody hands were shaking as if from palsy when he held them out to Trevor. He tried to smile, his eyes still shining with desperate denial. "It was just business, huh? It - it wasn't anything personal."

Livia found the gun Deke had dropped and checked to make sure that it was loaded.

"Oh, is that so?" Trevor asked, his tone quietly ferocious; a tiger's growl before he moved in for the kill. "Well, you made it pretty fucking personal for me."

"Y-you don't have to kill me," Deke was saying as Livia limped forward; coming to stand on Trevor's left. His face brightened with sudden hope and then, "I have money! S-sixty grand just sitting in the bank! I'll give you every motherfucking last cent of it if you'll just let me walk, man. Cash in fucking hand, I swear!"

Trevor plucked at the collar of his blood-soaked tank top and pretended to consider a moment. "Sixty grand, eh?"

Deke had finally noticed Livia's presence glowering down at him and he swallowed hard, hurriedly taking his eyes off of her and looking at Trevor once more as if he were the saner, more reasonable of the two. "Yeah," he agreed, shifting again and groaning at the excruciating pain this movement brought from his knee. "Swear to God. Sixty grand and you'll never see my face again."

Trevor gave a low chuckle, shaking his head slowly and never taking his eyes off of Deke's, "That _is_ a tempting offer, Dick, but...nah. I think I'd rather just fucking kill you."

"Wait, wait," Livia said, holding out one hand to stop him. And, shockingly, Trevor actually heard her this time; turning toward her with a questioning look.

She raised the gun and pointed it directly at Deke's crotch. She pulled the trigger and hit him dead center; making the sick piece of shit forget all about his knee.

While Deke shrieked like a banshee and grabbed at his ruined genitals, she flicked the safety back on and looked up to see Trevor, Franklin and Michael all looking at her with wide-eyed expressions of surprise. She stuck the gun in the right front pocket of Franklin's hoody, making it sag on that side, and looked Trevor right in the eye, " _Now_ you can kill him."

So Trevor went to the table where Deke's instruments of torture had been laid out and found the hammer. He went to work on the screaming biker soon after, using the claw end. After the first couple of blows, Franklin and Michael came up to try and gently lead her away but she shook her head at them, "No, you guys go. I want to see this."

They quickly exited the room with queasy expressions on their faces but Livia stayed right where she was and watched every second of it.

She hardly blinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit has been crazy lately but I wanted to get another chapter out before the new year starts and I finally did. Yay.
> 
> Anyway, happy holidays and here's to hoping that this upcoming year is better than the previous one. Stay safe out there.


	46. Chapter 46

What was left of Deke's head was lying split open on the bare concrete surrounded by a halo of blood peppered with chunks of brain matter and fragments of bone. It wasn't a pretty sight by any means but all Livia could think of was how it didn't look like what she'd seen in cheesy horror movies a thousand times before. But, then again, she couldn't say that it looked all that different, either.

When Trevor finally dropped the hammer he broke through her hazy train of thought and drew her attention back to him again. He closed the distance between them with shocking suddeness and then he was plunging his crimson coated hands into the thick tangle of her sweat-soaked hair without warning. He pulled her head back until her face was tilted up toward his, bringing another twinge of pain that she barely felt, and suddenly he was kissing her everywhere; her mouth, her eyes, cheeks and forehead, as if he were trying to cover her entire face at once. It was a barrage of affection that she had not been prepared for, forcing her back a step as she clutched at his shoulders in an effort to keep her balance. It was all so fast that she couldn't react much less manage to return a single kiss before he was pulling away again.

Trevor stepped back and swiped an arm across his brow to clear away the sweat that had accumulated there; doing little more than smearing the blood around. "Go outside," he told her. "Find Franklin and Michael."

She stepped forward and lay one hand on his tacky, blood-soaked chest, unwilling to part from him again so soon. "Why? What are you going to do?"

The corner of Trevor's mouth twitched upward into a crooked smile as he gave a slight shake of his head, "Nothing you need to stick around for, darlin'." He took one of her hands in his and turned it over until her palm was exposed. He placed a kiss there, leaving a smudge of red like lipstick as his fingers smeared even more blood onto the back of her hand and onto the sleeve of Franklin's hoody. Looking up at her again, he said, "Find the guys and wait with them. This won't take long."

Livia gave him a nod and pulled her hand out of his, limping over to the open door and stepping out into the hall. Right outside, no more than ten paces from the room where she'd been beaten, sodomized and nearly murdered, stood Franklin with his back to her. He was standing next to a corpse, a skinny one with no head that must have been the rest of Audie, and seemed to be looking down at the rusty, gore-covered handsaw lying next to it. Frank heard her bare foot hit an empty casing, sending it rolling off into some dark corner, and turned quickly; holding his gun ready as if he still expected trouble. When he saw it was only her he straightened up a little, dropping his defensive posture, and held the gun down low at his side once again; keeping his finger well outside the trigger guard.

She saw the frown on his face darken even further but then his arm was around her shoulders again; warm, safe, supportive. "How you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft and almost pained with worry. "You look..."

Livia gave a small grunt that might've been called a laugh and offered, "Like a five pound sack stuffed with ten pounds of leaky shit? Yeah...I know how I look, Frank."

"I ain't gonna lie," he said, leading her away from the room as quickly as they could manage. "This whole horror movie heroine thing...it's not a good look for you."

Livia laughed pretty hard at that as Frank guided the way to a stairwell and began leading them down one careful step at a time. He waited until her laughter finally stopped and then, no longer trying to mask his concern with humor, asked, "Seriously, though, are you okay?"

She didn't answer him right away because at the moment she didn't really know if she was or not. She was up and walking around, at least...so that was good. It didn't even matter that every piece of her felt like it was full of shards of broken glass, that if every step was another small torture. Things had hurt like this before and her body had always healed. The welts covering her back would heal; even her mashed nose would heal eventually...though it might not ever look quite the same as it had before this. But, shit, it wasn't like she hadn't been beaten up before. She'd endured hundreds, maybe thousands, of hours of agony comparable to this and - in all honesty - there might've been a time or two when she'd actually been through worse. Of course, the pain from what Deke had done after using the belt was still quite sharp - a constant burn crawling through her torn flesh - but even this kind of injury was not a first for her. She'd endure everything just like she'd done before and, considering how badly things could've gone in there, she actually felt as though she'd gotten off rather lucky. She didn't feel as if a single one of her injuries were anywhere near life-threatening and, well, at least she could always be grateful she'd managed to keep every one of her fingers and toes.

If he was asking about her state of mind...all she really had to do was think of Deke's shrill scream after she'd shot his manhood off. That memory - still so fresh that she could close her eyes and hit a mental replay button if she wanted to - was something that made her feel a whole hell of a lot better. Maybe it wouldn't always be so but for now it was what she chose to hold on to. She hadn't tasted vengeance often in life and found herself savoring its sweetness, thinking, _Sometimes the bad guys really do get what's coming to them_.

Livia stepped around another body, this one riddled with so many bullets that the man's chest had been nearly obliterated, and turned her eyes back up at Franklin. "Honestly, I've been better," she said, tightening her arm around his neck in a half-hug and giving him a smile that almost made her look normal again; that cold girl with the scary laugh now hiding somewhere deep in the shadows of her mind. "But I'm still here, Frank. Right now I guess that'll have to do."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When they finally found an exit and stepped outside, Livia was unsurprised to see that they were out in the middle of fucking nowhere. It was night and the moon was out and shining brightly in the sky with a million stars all around so she could see enough to know that the landscape was one she'd grown familiar with. So they were probably out in the Grand Senora Desert somewhere...maybe not too far from Trevor's trailer for all she knew. She didn't really care either way, though. She just closed her eyes to breathe deeply of that sweet, arid scent; feeling almost giddy with a sudden sense of freedom. Filling her lungs with fresh air - that was another thing she thought she'd never get to do again.

Franklin offered to carry her down the long stretch of road that lay before them but she declined; too happy with the simple act of walking despite the pain. He didn't say anything as he led her away in the moonlight but continued to hold onto one arm to keep her from falling should she lose the strength in her legs or trip. She smiled a little to herself as her eyes rested on the darkened rise of a mesa in the distance and found herself thinking that the kid was as stubbornly kind as ever. Then she wondered what the hell she'd ever done to deserve having someone like Frank as a friend.

Once they'd gone a few dozen steps or so, Livia glanced back over her shoulder to see the building she'd been held captive in the last few days of her life. It looked like an old factory of some kind - squat, ugly, and falling apart - with at least three ancient smokestacks blocking out wide strips of the starry sky. It looked like it had been abandoned for at least as long as she had been alive; the windows all broken out long ago and most of them left gaping open like idiot mouths while only a few had been boarded up down on the lower level. There was faded lettering above the big rusted double doors they'd walked out of but it was far too dark for her to try and make out what it said. Looking away, she decided that it didn't matter, anyway. She never had to step foot in that horrible place again or think about how close she'd come to dying in there.

Instead she'd think about how good it was to hear the lonesome hoot of an owl out there somewhere, how good it was to feel the little rocks and pebbles digging into the soles of her feet. It was good to be free; good to be alive. That's what she'd focus on and what would keep her putting one foot in front of the other again and again even though her entire body ached; wanting nothing more than to lie down and rest. If she was hurting that meant she was still alive and, for right now at least, that seemed fair enough.

So they walked about a quarter of a mile and found Michael sitting in the driver's seat of a nondescript blue sedan. He had parked off the shoulder a ways behind an old oak tree and when he saw them coming he hopped out to open the back door for them; his eyes looking down at the ground and seemingly avoiding meeting Livia's at all costs. She could tell by the look on his face that he was angry and upset. Whether with her or the situation, she was unsure, but at the moment she didn't really give a shit, either. He'd helped rescue her so maybe he had a right to be angry. Maybe they all did.

Franklin sat in the back with her, keeping one protective arm around her shoulders as if afraid to let go, and they waited; none of them saying a word. Livia dozed off and on for a while, falling asleep only to snap back awake as soon as her body tried to relax. She would crash eventually but right now she was too concerned with Trevor; wanting him back as soon as possible so that they could leave this place together. 

After maybe half an hour or so, Franklin shifted a little, awakening her, and she followed the line of his gaze to see smoke drifting up from somewhere at the back of the factory. Moments later there was a series of rapid-fire explosions and the night sky lit up with sudden, brilliant orange light. With each explosion she could feel the ground shake beneath the car but they were far enough away that they were safe.

"Where _is_ he?" she fretted, grabbing Franklin's hand and giving it a squeeze so that he'd look away from the fireball and back at her. "Where's Trevor?"

He squeezed her hand back as he answered, "He'll be here soon."

Livia watched the road for signs of his coming, chewing nervously on her lip, feeling more and more worried as time passed and still he didn't appear. But in the end her worrying proved needless because Frank was completely right. Not even ten minutes passed before she saw Trevor jogging toward the car, still covered in blood and the strap of his rifle slung over one shoulder. Moments later he was hopping into the passenger side of the front seat, panting and stinking; filling the interior with the overpowering smell of noxious gasoline fumes.

"What're you waiting for, Mikey? Let's go!" he said, slamming the door shut again and banging one fist on the dashboard as he set his rifle on the floorboard between his feet. "Quit dragging your ass and get us the fuck outta here!"

Michael frowned but said nothing as he shifted into drive and got the sedan moving. He was quick to roll down all the windows, though; allowing another burst of desert air to caress Livia's swollen face with soothingly chilly fingers. They drove for about five minutes before they turned off onto another forgotten strip of dirt road and began heading west, now running parallel to the burning factory. Livia watched the glow from the fire until it faded in the distance with a wisp of a smile on her cracked lips. Whatever it might've been before, it was a bad place now. She was glad to see it burn.

They rode in continued silence for quite a while, taking several more turns until they met a long, lonely stretch of highway, and finally Franklin chose to break it by asking, "So, uhhh, which hospital are we going to? We're pretty far out in the boonies...where's the nearest ER?"

When no one answered him, he looked at Trevor expectantly but Trevor only sat there with a scowl on his face and wouldn't look back at him; concentrating on picking some dried blood out from under one blunt fingernail. He looked at Michael but he wouldn't meet his gaze in the rear view mirror, either, just frowned out at the road and kept his mouth shut.

Frank's eyes met Livia's and he asked, "We _are_ taking you to a hospital, right?"

"No," she said, sounding almost apologetic as she shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Franklin."

They looked at each other for a long moment and she had plenty of time to take in the shocked and angry expression on his face. "Not...not a good idea?" he echoed, the reproach in his tone unmistakable as he lifted one eyebrow and his nostrils flared. "The fuck you mean? You need to see a doctor."

" _No_ , Franklin," she repeated just a little more curtly than she had intended. She saw him draw back a little and was careful to soften her tone as she continued, "I just need to go home. A little ice and some rest is all I need."

"What the fuck?" he said, looking at her as if she'd suddenly grown another head. "You're _hurt_. When people get hurt you take them to the fucking hospital so that's what the fuck we're gonna do."

"No," she told him a third time. "I said I'll be fine."

Franklin's brown eyes slid away from hers and landed on Trevor who, so far, had chosen not to comment. "Come on, T," he said, clearly irritated with her and looking for a little backup. "Talk some fucking sense into your girl."

"If she doesn't want to go..." Trevor said, shrugging one shoulder and looking out of the passenger window at the passing scenery as if lost in his own train of thought.

Franklin seemed thunderstruck again and suddenly looked at Michael for help; almost desperate now. But it seemed that Mike had even less to say about it than Trevor did and didn't even glance up from the road. Frank made a _pisshh_ noise and suddenly his eyes were back on hers; pissed off and confused at the same time. "What the fuck is wrong with y'all? Are all white people this fucking crazy?!" He took a moment to run his hands over his face in frustration and then rounded on her again; unable to hold himself back anymore. "Man, I don't know why you be acting like everything's fine when it's not. We taking yo ass to the first emergency room we can find, goddamn it."

"Why would we do that?" she asked in a calm almost-quiet voice. "You wanna be the one to explain to them what happened to me, Frankie? You want to tell them all about that factory full of dead bikers back there? Or what about how I was kidnapped and tortured and ra-"

Livia choked a little on the last word, feeling sudden tears sting her eyes as she shut her mouth with a snap; almost biting her tongue in an effort to keep herself from saying any more.

Frank's normally mocha-colored skin seemed to be a shade or two lighter as his eyes widened and he stuttered, "Wh-what...?"

But he stopped after that one word. Probably not wanting to know but possibly thinking of the bullet that had ripped through Deke's private parts and knowing already. A deathly silence had fallen in the car again and she could feel the others staring at her but she only looked at Franklin now, blinking back the tears before they could fall. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself before she explained.

"The last thing I want to do is answer any goddamned questions," Livia told him in that same quiet, hollow tone as before; her blue eyes dark, stormy, and staring back unflinchingly into his mild brown ones. "I mean, do you really think this is the first time I've dealt with this kind of thing? You think I've never been hurt? I hate to break it to you, kid, but this is nothing new to me. I've taken my fair share of shit in life and, believe me, I'll heal. I _always_ fucking heal."

The hurt look on his face made her wish to take it back, to somehow soften her words so she wouldn't shock and disgust him; so he wouldn't think less of her and she wouldn't feel as if in some weird way it was all her fault. But her worries proved groundless when she felt Franklin's comforting arm slip around her shoulders again and, although the scowl on his face was rather severe, he let it drop and didn't say another word about taking her to the ER. He just held her to him and let her rest her weary head on the pillow of his shoulder; comforting her the only way he possibly could.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon by the time they made it home but Wade was overjoyed to see her and Livia smiled at the way he immediately pulled her into a warm embrace. She hugged him back just as tightly, not minding the sour smell of him invading her nose as she took a deep breath and crushed his bony chest against hers.

"I missed you, Livia," he said, his hands digging into the welts on her shoulder blades, unaware that they were there. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Drawing back, she wiped the tears from her eyes and said, "I'm happy to see you, too, Wade. It's good to be home."

Even though the blood had been cleared away from her face, Wade noticed her nose and asked, "What happened? You...you look all beat up."

"Don't ask," Trevor told him gruffly, walking past them and setting his rifle down on the coffee table. "Just go start a bath for her, Wade. Then I'm gonna need you to go to a pharmacy and pick up a few things. Think you can manage that?"

Wade was nodding but the look on his face was concerned and beginning to be afraid, "Y-yeah, sure. I can do that."

Trevor's dark gaze fell upon him and Livia lay a hand on Wade's shoulder in an offer of comfort as he trembled beneath it.

"Then go," he said. " _Now_."

Wade hurried out of the room and Trevor came to where she stood just beside the couch. His face was set in a scowl but it brightened a little as she reached out a hand to him and laced their fingers together.

A few minutes later her bath was ready and Trevor helped her limp down the hall to their bedroom, holding onto one arm just as Franklin had done for her earlier. As she removed the hoody she heard Trevor's gasp when he saw the state of her back. She turned to look at him and saw the angry shine of tears in his eyes.

"Is it that bad?" she asked, giving him an exhausted smile that held the tiniest bit of shame beneath it.

Trevor's eyes met hers and she shivered at the black hatred she saw in them, "Let's just say I'm glad that fucker is dead. In fact, I'd kill him again if it were possible. I'm sure I could think of some new and interesting ways."

He helped lower her into the bath and as the warm water enveloped her she sighed and let her head rest against the back of the tub. Trevor sat on a little step-stool beside her and waited; saying nothing even though his face was clouded with worry and pain.

He helped her wash and clean away all the muck and blood and grime that had accumulated on her since her surprise hose-shower back at the factory. As he carefully scrubbed her back with some mild soap and a huge, marshmallowy-soft sponge, he asked, "Are you really going to be okay, darlin'? I know you're tough, I don't doubt that one bit, but...I think Frank had a point. We should get someone to at least take a look at you." He lifted her hair and massaged the back of her neck with the sponge, thinking out loud now, "I'm sure Lester can get some dirt on one of those pencil-necked quacks and we can persuade him to make a house call or two. At the very least we'll get you some good fucking drugs to help take the edge off that pain. If the cocksucker wants to play hardball with his prescription pad I'll break his fucking fingers for him."

"Whatever you think is best," she said, yawning and leaning into the wonderful pressure of his hand working the kinks out of her neck. "We can talk about this again later if you want to. Right now all I want is to go to bed and sleep for the next day or so."

She felt him kiss the top of her head and then he said, "Of course, Livia. You should rest as much as you can. We'll have you in bed toot-fucking-sweet."

He helped her out of the tub and then he helped her dry off and by that time Wade had returned from the pharmacy with the supplies they needed. He helped her back into their bedroom and she lay facedown on the bed as he rubbed some lidocaine ointment into her welts much more gently than she ever would've expected from him. It was so calming, so relaxing, that it wasn't long at all before she felt the room spinning and rocking gently around her like a ship at sea; a sure sign that exhaustion was about to take over.

Just before she drifted away into sleep she told him, "Thank you for saving me...again." She nestled her arms deeper beneath the pillow under her head and sighed; completely relaxed for the first time in almost two weeks. A small smile curved one side of her mouth and she gave another jaw-cracking yawn before she murmured, "I...mmmm...I love you, Trevor."

She felt his hands suddenly stop rubbing that miracle ointment into her abused flesh but she was already sinking, sliding and slipping far away from him and into a state of deep slumber. She was gone to a place where the pain couldn't touch her anymore; completely oblivious of the stunned look her hazy admission left on his homely face.


	47. Chapter 47

She was back in that horrible concrete room and hanging from the chains again. Livia's mind spun with fear and confusion as she looked down at her naked skin splashed and streaked with dried blood. _No, no, no. This isn't right. This_ can't _be right!_ she thought, pulling against the cuffs at her wrists and accomplishing absolutely nothing. The chains above her didn't so much as rattle and the rusted metal cuffs might as well have been fused to her flesh by some kind of magic. _All of this already happened, damn it! I got out! I'm_ safe _!!_

But as she looked up to see Deke standing before her, she realized that she was not safe and never had been; maybe never would be. Livia met those sparkling emeralds that had served as his eyes and noticed that something was different about them now. One was dilated far more than the other; the right pupil blown wide while the other was down to just a tiny pinpoint. She also noticed that the white part around his irises had been overtaken by a bright red color. They were filled in with blood the exact same way as they'd been after the first couple of blows from the hammer had struck and opened his head up like a rotten pumpkin. Looking up further, toward his forehead and his buzzed mohawk, she saw that the shape of his head wasn't quite right, either. It was lumpy and mishappen, bulging out on one side and then appearing to be concave on the other. It looked like someone had tried to put the pieces of his skull back together but had done a piss-poor job of it. 

"You're _dead_ ," she told him, as if that would somehow make everything go back to the way it should be. "We _killed_ you."

Deke's face was genuinely puzzled as he looked down at himself and patted his chest with his free hand. He gave a grunt before poking experimentally at his stomach with the tip of one thick finger and finally looked back up at her with a smile; his impressive mustache bowing outward on each side of his wide mouth like a woman giving a curtsy.

"You sure?" he asked in a teasing way, cocking one eyebrow at her as his grin stretched even wider. Livia saw that he now had several gaps in his teeth; gaps that hadn't been there when he'd still been alive. So many of them had been cracked and broken away by the steel hammer head that had bashed through his mouth that the teeth left leaned this way and that; making her think of an old picket fence around a condemned house.

"I don't _feel_ dead."

"Well, you are," she insisted, her voice growing strident at this continued denial of facts. "You're fucking dead. I blew your balls off and then Trevor beat your head in with a hammer. I stood right there and watched him fucking do it!"

He came closer to her, the knife in his hand flashing in the light overhead as he gave a chuckle that set her teeth on edge, "You've got quite the imagination, don't you?"

"I know what happened," she told him, giving him her best withering look. "You're dead and probably burned to a crisp. I bet the cops would have to use dental records just to identify your body...if there was anything left to find, that is."

Deke was still smiling at her and she saw a thin line of blood snake down from one corner of his mouth; dark and viscous. Somewhere in the back of her mind a weird, chant-like thought arose, a frighteningly cold voice that sounded nothing like her own, _Dead blood. Rotten blood. Corpse blood._

"If I'm so dead..." he wondered aloud, tapping the tip of the knife blade against his chin as the skin there began to turn black and rot before her eyes. Suddenly the sharp tip was pointed at her, only inches from her face, "Then what the fuck are you doing strung up like this?"

"None of this is real," she told him in a desperate, shaking voice; perhaps trying to convince herself as much as him. "You're fucking dead and...and this is just a dream. You can't hurt me anymore."

But her words were quickly losing strength; no longer the angry, no-bullshit voice she'd spoken with moments ago. Deke's smile grew even more; stretching impossibly wide as she looked into his strange eyes. Then she watched in morbid fascination as a chunk of his head suddenly detached from the rest of his skull and fell to the floor with a sickening plop. He was only a step or two away from her, close enough that she could smell the rot on his breath, and before she knew what was happening, the knife was pressed against the unprotected flesh of her throat. Her mind tried to scream at her again that this wasn't really happening to her, absolutely couldn't be...but the icy-cold edge of his weapon on her felt all too real. Oh, God, if this was a dream, why the fuck would she feel everything so clearly? 

"Oh, I can hurt you plenty," he told her, his voice a low growl as she watched his eyes begin to change; suddenly twisting and shifting around his mismatched pupils into a whirlpool of alternating colors. Swirling around and around again, she thought he was trying to hypnotize her until they had finally stopped their dizzying spin; completely changed from that brilliant, emerald green into a dark, earthy brown.

When he spoke again she heard how his voice had changed, too. It was much rougher, now an angry, mocking tone that she knew all too well, "Simpering cunt." 

And now it was Trevor standing there before her. A dead Trevor-ghoul with half of his skull missing and a fat horsefly crawling out of one bloody, half-torn ear. She opened her mouth to scream but then he was dragging the sharp edge of the blade quickly across her throat; slicing through her flesh as though it were no more substantial than smoke. She felt a vague heat begin to gush from what had to have been a huge split in her neck but she wasn't aware of any pain as her lifeblood left her; a flood of color that quickly painted the world around them in red. She was terrified - knowing that she was dying - but now everything was fading away bit by bit; losing color and form, losing focus. 

Livia looked into Trevor's laughing eyes as the light around her was rapidly waning; becoming dimmer and dimmer until the only thing she could still see was his smile shining out at her. She watched his lips move, shaping words he'd said so often, and somewhere in all that growing darkness she heard him say that he loved her one last time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She came awake with a gasping cry, bolting upright in bed with her heart slamming crazily beneath her ribcage as she reflexively kicked off the covers that had somehow twisted around her like a smothering cocoon. Panicky fingers clutched the sweat-soaked cotton t-shirt covering her heaving chest and her wide eyes darted around the room as if she expected some shambling horror to come out of the dark for her at any second.

When nothing did, Livia finally let out all the pent-up breath she'd been holding in a rush and felt her heartbeat stutter one more time before it began to slow. She swept a lock of stray hair out of her sweaty face with one shaking hand and muttered, "For fuck's sake...when will this shit _stop_?"

It had been a solid week now that she'd been having nightmares about Deke and she was beginning to think that he would never go away and leave her alone. Although he remained the constant each time, it was not truly a repetitive dream because every night it was different; a little more horribly surreal. Sometimes she was hanging helplessly from those chains again, naked and afraid, but sometimes she saw him other places, too; catching her off-guard in dreams that were deceptively pleasant at first. 

Once she'd seen him in the supermarket, his huge body wedged into a freezer case between the french fries and the pizza, and he'd been telling her to hurry up and buy something already because it wasn't getting any fresher the longer she stood there. Another time she'd been watching TV when the program had suddenly changed and she'd witnessed Trevor beating him to death again; his blood so red on the small screen that she'd thought it looked fake even though she knew it wasn't. This was only the second time his face and Trevor's had swapped places unexpectedly like that...and the first time had been even worse. She'd been in the middle of making out with Trevor and things had been getting pretty hot and heavy when his face had changed into a shattered ruin; his tongue wriggling out of the bloody cavern of his mouth at her like an obscene worm. She'd really freaked both Trevor and Wade out by screaming herself awake over that one.

Livia was so tired that she'd gone through two bags of coffee in the past week, trudging through each day while the circles on her face grew darker and her parchment-white skin grew even paler. She didn't want to think about what lengths she would go to just to have one night of unbroken rest; to force the memory of Deke out of her head. It was completely absurd and bordering on straight up crazy but...she almost felt like the bastard was actually haunting her. She didn't believe in ghosts or hauntings and seriously doubted any kind of life after death; it defied all logic and reasoning to believe that anything remained after the body gave out. Vengeful spirits and the like were great for entertainment purposes - she'd been into it just as much as anyone else when looking for a scary good time - but this wasn't a movie or a book or even a fucking video game. This was real life.

Hell, even if ghosts _were_ real, Deke had no reason to haunt her. She'd done him no wrong as far as she could see. He'd deserved what had happened to him; every single second of excruciating pain that had preceded his death. So why was her sleeping mind determined not to let him stay dead? Why did she see his face every time she closed her eyes and began to dream? Ghosts were bullshit and if anything was haunting her, it was her conscience. She just didn't have the slightest clue as to why that would be.

Livia rubbed at her temples and looked over at the digital clock on the bedside table. Four in the morning. Great. That meant she'd gotten maybe five hours of sleep before that ugly dead fuck had ruined her night again. If he was a ghost, he was even more of an asshole now than he'd been when he was still alive.

Once the sweat had dried and her heartbeat had more or less returned to a normal pattern, she considered trying to lay back down but decided that wouldn't do with Trevor's side of the bed empty like it was. Somehow she felt disappointed and relieved at the same time by his absence. She couldn't snuggle with his warmth to make herself feel better but he wasn't there to ask her any uncomfortable questions, either. No, she had to get up. If she lay here trying to drift away again she'd only end up tossing and turning until the sun rose. Better to walk around a little, maybe it would help clear her head. So, heaving a sigh of frustration, she swung her legs over one side and stood; telling herself she'd try sleeping again soon.

Making her way down the darkened hallway, she passed Wade's room and the house was so quiet that she could hear him softly snoring on the other side of his closed door. He'd been crashed out for almost two days now, coming down from another meth binge, and he might sleep until next week for all she knew. He wouldn't be any help, anyway. As much as she liked Wade, he was even more clueless about most things than she was. He could be sympathetic but he wouldn't have any answers for her unwanted dreams.

Passing the archway leading to the living room, she noticed the TV wasn't on but decided against looking for Trevor elsewhere in the house. He was probably busy tearing apart something in the garage or maybe terrorizing a small country somewhere. Even if he was still in the house, it was probably best she not bother him now. She didn't want him worrying about her even more and, besides, all she really wanted was a little glass of cold milk and maybe one of those melatonin pills he'd insisted on picking up for her a few days ago.

She padded over to the refrigerator on her bare feet and the moonlight streaming in from the window over the sink just bright enough to guide her. She got the milk out and went to the cupboard to retrieve a small cup. After pouring herself a knock, she gulped it down quickly and poured another; wincing a little as the chilly feeling of the liquid settled in her empty stomach. That was another thing that worried Trevor. She hadn't been eating much and the things she did eat, she threw up half the time. The weed helped with her nausea but she couldn't smoke it around the clock even if she'd wanted to because she only had a little left. She'd already tried smoking a couple of fat joints before bed the last three nights, thinking it might help dull her nightmares long enough to get some real rest. It had - so far, at least - been a wasted effort.

Livia drank the second cup of milk and set it back down on the counter with a little shiver; the cold seeping down further into her guts until she was cold all over. She only stood there for a moment, trying to ignore the odd sensation, and tapped one finger on the curved side of the glass; distracting herself by wondering where she'd put that bottle of melatonin down. She was pretty lost in thought but then there came a sudden sound somewhere off to her left - a stealthy, sliding footstep - and she wheeled around to face her attacker. As she did, she hurled the glass in that direction and voiced a cry that was both frightened and angry. She didn't know she was going to do it, she was startled into action without thought, but her aim was surprisingly good; missing her target only by a few inches.

The glass shattered against the wall, right next to Trevor's head, and it was a lucky thing she'd missed because his reaction was too slow; throwing his hands up to guard himself a half-second after it'd already exploded. Livia covered her mouth with one shaking hand as her eyes widened at the sight of him and at the same time he cried out, "Whoa, whoa! What the _fuck_ , darlin'?!"

Removing her hand from her mouth, she looked stricken; the dark circles under her eyes standing out in even greater contrast with the pallor of her face. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Trevor!" she said in an unsteady voice, placing her hand over the crazy-fast beat of her heart. "I - I swear I didn't mean to do that! Are you alright?"

He frowned a little as he brushed a few shards of glass out of his thinning hair and exclaimed, "Jesus fucking wept, Livia!" He looked back up at her and lifted one eyebrow, his eyes lost to deep pools of shadow underneath, "Well, now we know you can throw shit almost as well as you can shoot. Remind me never to sneak up on you while you're holding a knife, okay?"

She took a step toward him and stopped, afraid of the broken glass scattered at their feet, "I would never...I didn't mean to...." She took another shaky breath to steady herself and lamely repeated, "I'm so sorry."

Trevor shrugged in an absent way, giving a low chuckle, and went to get the broom out of the little storage closet in the dining room. As he swept up all the pieces into a dustpan, she spotted an errant shard of glass near the stove glinting in the moonlight and bent to pick it up. Even though she was being careful she felt one jagged edge dig into her flesh and gave a little gasp of surprised pain; dropping it again. She pulled her hand back and saw that she'd managed to cut herself pretty deep. She watched, frowning, as blood welled from the inch-long slash at the end of her middle finger; running diagonally across the gentle swirls and swoops of her fingerprint. Suddenly Trevor was there next to her; so close that she could feel his presence like a magnetic pull in her bones and teeth.

"Cut yourself?" he asked, the smell of burnt plastic emanating from him almost as if it were his natural body odor.

She nodded and held her hand out so he could see, "Yeah. Got me good."

He stood there for a moment, looking at the blood coming from her cut with an avid expression she didn't quite understand, and then reached out to take her wrist in hand. Livia looked on, frozen in place, as he took her finger and put it in his mouth. His lips closed around her digit and then she felt the gentle pressure of him sucking; the tip of his tongue swiping across the cut and making her wince a little. He closed his eyes for a moment, giving a grunt of pleasure, and Livia felt her stomach tighten at the fact that he enjoyed it. After all this time she shouldn't be surprised by him getting some kind of weird sexual thrill out of tasting her blood. He'd tasted most of the rest of her by now and had liked it just as well.

One more lick with his tongue and then he pulled her finger out of his mouth with an audible pop. She watched him lick his lips quickly as if to catch any stray drop that might've fallen and then his eyes met hers again.

Still frowning, she looked pointedly at her cut and then back at him, " _Ow_."

"Sorry," he said, his smile bordering on apologetic. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Livia did as he asked but ran her cut under the cold water tap, letting it numb her finger because it had begun to throb after Trevor sucked on it. She already had her finger wrapped in a paper towel by the time he came back with some peroxide and a band-aid.

She tried to take the bottle from him but he shook his head and then tilted it toward the table, "Sit. I'll take care of you."

So she took a seat and allowed him to dump some peroxide over the cut, watching as it bubbled up frantically before fading and dying away. He wiped the excess off with her paper towel and opened the band-aid up and wrapped it around her finger. As soon as he was done he asked, "Why are you up so early? More bad dreams?"

Livia gave a grudging nod and said, "Yep." But she left it at that, hoping he'd let it drop.

"Deke again?"

This time she only nodded in answer. He didn't need to know the gory details and she didn't really want to recall them. Maybe if she gave herself enough time she'd just forget about it entirely.

"You know...it's always weird the first time you kill someone," Trevor said, turning her finger a little to make sure the bandage would stay before releasing her again. "The first guy I killed chased me around in my dreams for weeks. I thought the ugly son of a bitch would never go away."

"But...I didn't kill him," she said, her eyebrows knotting together as she drew her hands back across the table and clasped them together in her lap. She had killed others - Tater, the kid they'd left to watch the door and three more nameless goons whose faces she'd barely glimpsed - but strangely enough, none of them had made an appearance in her nightmares. It was only Deke's face that haunted her so far.

"You were the one who killed him."

"Yeah," he agreed, his dark eyes meeting her own as the corner of his mouth lifted into a knowing smile. "But you didn't try to stop me, either. That must be what's been eating at you."

"I don't feel guilty about it if that's what you mean," she nearly spat, the corners of her mouth cramping down into a scowl. "That bastard had it coming...they _all_ did."

Trevor nodded, watching her carefully now, "Yes, indeed they did." He tapped the ends of his fingers on the hard wooden surface of the table and asked, "Maybe you feel a tiny bit cheated 'cause you didn't get to kill that particular turd yourself? After what happened..."

Livia shook her head quickly, "No, that's not it, either." She didn't want him to bring up the pain she'd gone through. They'd had that conversation already. He'd raged and screamed and punched holes in things but it hadn't taken away the fact that it'd happened. Her flesh had mostly healed by now but the scars it left on her psyche were another matter.

They sat in silence for a while, both of them with dark looks on their faces, and finally she asked, "Heard anything back from that doctor yet?"

Trevor shook his head, "It's only been two days. Fucker said the lab results could take a week."

The doctor Lester had found had been a fifty year old man with tired eyes and gentle hands. Dr. Ahmed had asked some questions, taken samples of her blood and urine and had given her a complete exam. The diagnosis had been favorable; a very slight case of whiplash, a broken nose, a couple of bruised ribs, a sprained knee and a miniscule tear in her rectum. He'd said she should be fully healed within the next two weeks, given her a prescription for some pain meds and suggested aloe vera for the healing welts covering her back. She'd been touched by the way he'd shaken her hand, looked her in the eyes and wished her a speedy recovery before he'd left his phone number with Trevor and departed.

"He was a nice man," she said now, not aware she was speaking out loud.

Trevor gave a humorless grunt, "He should've been with the amount of money I paid him just to keep his fucking mouth shut."

Livia stood from the table and went to the cupboard. As she pulled the door open, Trevor asked, "What are you doing?"

"Making coffee," she answered, pulling out the container of medium roast and the package of filters. "I don't think I can go back to bed after this."

He fell silent and she concentrated on what she was doing until she felt his hands slip around her waist and then the warm press of his chest against her back. She felt him nuzzle close to the side of her neck and tried to keep herself from stiffening up. 

"I can take you to bed," he murmured, his lips moving against her sensitive flesh. "Make you forget all about everything for a little while."

Livia swallowed hard and her hand shook a little as she dumped coffee into the filter. "Don't you think we should wait for the results?" she asked, her voice shaking a little, too. "What if...?"

"That pisshead gave you something that won't wash off?" Trevor offered, nuzzling even closer.

She nodded, her throat tightening, and said, "Yeah." They hadn't been intimate since her return and he had been surprisingly understanding of her boundaries so far. She just hoped he could wait a few days more...for both their sakes.

"If he did...I don't care," Trevor told her and she could feel his growing erection pushing into the soft flesh of her butt cheek. "I love you, Livia. I'll suffer through it with you."

Livia shook her head, her throat tighter than ever, and managed, "No, Trevor. _Please_. A few more days, okay? Just...just give me some time."

He paused against her and she waited to see how he would react. Her heart had begun to beat hard again, making her temples throb, and she stood as still as a statue against him; not knowing what to expect.

Slowly he placed a kiss on her neck and drew away. "As you wish," he whispered, pressing himself even harder into her backside before stepping back a little. "But as soon as I get that phone call..." He reached out and gripped one hip almost hard enough to hurt, "You might want to prepare yourself because you're going to need another week to recover from what _I'm_ going to do to you."

He walked away from her, leaving the kitchen, and she only stood there trembling for a long time as her coffee brewed. She told herself that he'd meant it in a suggestive way, a non-threatening way, but her body didn't get the message. 

It took everything in her to keep from screaming.


	48. Chapter 48

Trevor got the call from Dr. Ahmed three days later. Livia sat next to him on the couch listening to him say, "Yeah, yeah. Mmhmm. Okay, okay...right..." and tried not to let herself become too anxious at the sight of the scowl pinching his face.

After a few more 'mhmm's and 'okay's Trevor turned to look at her with a strange expression; his lips pursed and dark eyes intense. Something about it gave her an uneasy feeling in her stomach, and she was nearly swallowed by an unfolding sense of dread. She began to chew hard on her lower lip, her teeth catching and pulling until she tasted the faintest hint of copper on her tongue.

"Talk to her?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers as the creases around his mouth deepened even more. "Uh, yeah, yeah. Of course you can, Doc."

Then he was thrusting the phone at her almost angrily and Livia took it with one trembling hand. "What?" she whispered, reluctant to put it up to her ear. "What is it?"

Trevor shrugged and whispered back, "I don't know. He said he can't release any information to me. He has to tell _you_. So go on, darlin'. Talk to the man and find out."

She swallowed past the rising lump in her throat and put the phone up to her ear, "Hello?"

"Livia?" came the softly accented voice of the man who had given her a complete physical five days ago.

"Yes?"

"Hi. This is Dr. Ahmed. How are you feeling today?"

"I'm...okay," she answered, fiddling nervously with the bottom hem of her shirt. "My nose is still a bit sore but everything else is a lot better than it was."

"Good, good. Glad to hear it," he said and somewhere in the background she could hear papers being shuffled quickly together. He cleared his throat a little and went on to say, "Ah, so...all pleasantries aside, the reason I'm calling you is that we got your test results back this morning. I wanted to discuss them with you if I may."

"Oh God," Livia nearly moaned; her stomach twisting viciously inside of her as her free hand gripped her thigh hard enough to leave fingermarks. "Is it HIV? Herpes? What? _What is it_?"

She could feel Trevor's eyes on her, practically boring holes into her, but she couldn't look at him just now. She stared at the sunlight dappling the plain white wall across from her and waited for the next hammer to fall.

"Oh no, no. It's nothing like that," Dr. Ahmed said, his voice softening into a placating tone as if he feared she would go into hysterics at any second...which wasn't a far cry from the truth. "You're the perfect specimen of health as far as that goes. So no worries there." He paused again and the tension in her guts became almost unbearable before he finally continued, "I just wanted to ask if you were aware that you're pregnant."

Time stopped dead as her breath caught in her throat and the world around her seemed to swell into a burning, blinding light that hurt her bulging eyes. Everything was bright, too bright, and the sunlight on the wall felt like knives stabbing her corneas but she didn't close her eyes; she couldn't even blink. Her heartbeat went into overdrive as her throat constricted and turned the mere act of breathing into a chore; leaving a weird, swimming feeling in her head that only made everything seem all the more unreal. A creeping feeling of cold drifted from her core, spreading outward until it shuddered through her limbs and down to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her hand clenched into a crushing grip around Trevor's phone and she heard it creak warningly in her grip. It took every last ounce of her willpower to fight against the suddenly overwhelming urge to fling it against the wall and scream until her throat exploded.

Dr. Ahmed's voice seemed to be coming to her from one end of a very long and very dark tunnel but she could hear him quite well when he asked, "Livia? Mrs. Philips? Are you still there?"

"Wallace," she corrected, feeling strangely disconnected from herself; as if this world were the real dream that haunted her. "It's Ms. Wallace. I never changed my name after I got married."

The room was spinning a little around her and she felt like she'd stood up too fast and given herself a head rush. She really didn't even know what she was saying. She was like a parrot repeating words she'd said a thousand times before.

"Excuse me," he said, still sounding as if he were speaking to a very small child on the verge of throwing a fit. "Ms. Wallace, then. Did you...did you hear what I said a moment ago? You're pregnant."

She was finally coming back to herself a little, scattered bits and pieces linking together in tiny chains of thought, until she was aware enough to feel Trevor's hand gripping her forearm. She shook it off without meeting his eyes and stood from the couch; almost falling from the weak and watery feeling in her legs. She stepped away, turning her back to Trevor's feral gaze, and lowered her voice, "I heard you just fine, doctor. How...how advanced is it?"

He must've not realized at first what she was referring to because it took him a moment to answer. He probably wasn't used to patients reacting this way to news of a pregnancy. "At least a month," he said, sounding awkward and stiff; no longer using that warm voice from only seconds ago. "Maybe two. Are you on any kind of birth control?"

Livia breathed deeply through her nose and stepped toward the front door, distancing herself even further from Trevor's sharp eyes. "No," she said. "I haven't used that since I was in my early twenties."

"I see." A pause. "Are you still smoking marijuana?"

"Yes."

"I would advise you stop doing so immediately," he said, sounding as if he'd nearly gotten over his moment of discomfort. "Not because I believe it will cause any real harm to your child this early in your pregnancy but because -"

"Is there a way I can just...get rid of it?" she asked, tears stinging her eyes as she fought to keep emotion out of her voice. "A pill I can take or...?"

Suddenly he was uncomfortable again, "This far along? No. If you're determined not to give birth the only way to terminate is by having an abortion."

Livia reacted like someone had punched her in the stomach, gripping herself with one hand and nearly doubling over. God. That fucking word. _Abortion_. How many times had she prayed? How many times had she begged God for a real family? And now...this? Could it really come to this?

Dr. Ahmed was going on about clinics he could refer her to but she cut him off with a choked cry of, "No!" Livia winced a little at herself and lowered her voice when she spoke again, "Thank you. That...that won't be necessary."

"Well..." he seemed to struggle to find his script again and she could hear him shuffling papers in the background once more. He cleared his throat and finally said, "If you decide you do want to keep the baby you need to see an OBGYN about getting regular check-ups and starting a daily regimen of prenatal vitamins. There are many highly trained doctors in the field in and around the greater Los Santos area. Would you like a referral from my office?"

"That also won't be necessary," she told him, straightening up again and finding a little more strength in her legs than before. "Thank you, doctor. You've been...extremely helpful, but I think I can manage it on my own from here."

"Okay," he said, sounding a little relieved; a little more like himself now. "If you have any questions or concerns, just give my office a call and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. You have a nice day, Ms. Wallace."

"You, too," she replied and took the phone away from her ear before hitting the END button. 

Livia stood there for a bit, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts that she couldn't quite grasp, steeling herself by taking several deep breaths before turning around to face Trevor. When she did she let out a gasping cry of surprise because he was _right there_. Only a step away, he was so close that she couldn't believe she hadn't felt his presence behind her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not noticing her moment of fright. "What did he say?"

Livia let out an odd, high-pitched growl and suddenly shoved his phone at him, forcing him back a step. "Will you _please_ stop doing that?!" she snapped, taking a step away from him again. "Jesus, you almost made me have a fucking stroke!"

Trevor ignored this admonition, his eyebrows settling even heavier over his dark eyes as he put his phone back in his pocket and asked again, " _What did he say, Livia_?"

Time took another little skip. She looked back into his eyes and made a split-second decision; one that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. It almost felt like someone else grabbed the reins and took control. Almost...but not quite.

"Nothing, really," she said, giving a laugh; surprised at how easily it rolled off the tongue. "Said I was 'the picture of health' except for one little thing. I have a slight iron deficiency. Do you believe it? A fucking _iron deficiency_."

One of Trevor's eyebrows lifted higher than the other and she had to fight to keep her poker face. "Really? That's all?" He paused and she held his gaze, resisting the building desire to avert her eyes. After a moment he cocked his head to one side and the corner of his mouth lifted into something that could almost be called a smile. "The way you were acting made it seem like it was something serious."

Livia felt that thread of unease coil even deeper in her lower belly and thought, _He doesn't buy it. Shit. Shit. He_ smelled _the lie._ Then the colder part of herself immediately answered, _No. Just stay calm. He won't know a fucking thing unless you open your mouth and tell him._

"You know how these doctors can be. Throwing a lot of medical gibberish at you like they expect you to understand what the hell they're talking about," she said, giving a snort of laughter and throwing her hands up as if in surrender. "Cryptic son of a bitch had me worried for a second there."

Trevor was giving her that careful, measuring look again and she struggled to keep her anxiety below the surface; down deep in the hollows of her heart where his eyes couldn't see. That cold voice telling her if she could handle Deke's interrogation techniques she could handle Trevor's shrewd gaze for a minute or two.

"So...what do we need to do to fix this deficiency?" he asked, something in his expression finally softening a little; just enough to soothe that disquieting flutter in her lower gut.

Livia gave him a smile that she hoped didn't show too much relief in it, "He said I needed to take some supplements and it should help bring my iron levels back up to normal."

Slowly, Trevor nodded, "Oh... Well, no problem then, eh? We can pick it up later on today if you want."

"Sure," she said with a shrug as if she couldn't care less. She leaned over and gave his scruffy cheek a big kiss, "Any thoughts on what you want for lunch?"

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

_That whole story, the whole fucking thing, was nothing but a lie. Of course it was. Paul was a fucking liar, through and through. Everything that cheating motherfucker ever said to me was probably a goddamned lie._

Livia remembered the story. How couldn't she? Every time they'd tried to get pregnant and it hadn't worked out, he'd brought it up again. It couldn't be Paul's fault, no. Not when he'd gotten that girl pregnant during his senior year of high school. He'd had to put the money up for the 'good Christian girl' to get an abortion so that no one - especially her parents - would ever find out. What a close call that had been, Paul had said. Too close. That was why he always wore a rubber until her, blah, blah, blah, etcetera, etcetera.

When Livia had suggested once that they go check out a fertility clinic or, at the very least, speak with their general practitioner about their inability to conceive, he'd been quick to shoot her down. They knew what the problem was...and it certainly wasn't Paul's little swimmers. It was her. Something was wrong with _her_. How couldn't it be? It was always her fault and of course she'd believed him. She'd never hesitated to blame herself when something went wrong.

 _Even if you believed Paul's bullshit, even if_ he _believed it, how could you just..._ forget _about your period like that? How could you not notice how long it's been?_

Surprisingly, it hadn't taken much convincing to get Trevor to let her go into the pharmacy on her own. There was an AmmuNation next door and he told her that he wanted to check out some of their new stock anyway. He'd given her a quick kiss, handed her a small roll of bills and then they had parted ways. The relief she had felt to finally have a moment alone had been almost indescribable; she had felt him watching her carefully all morning and it had been a struggle to keep up her veneer of false calm. She'd quickly picked up some low-grade iron pills before making a bee-line straight for the feminine products aisle. Now here she stood, looking over all the different brands of pads and tampons and feminine wash and feeling like she might burst into tears any second.

How long had it been since her last period? She thought maybe since the week before Trevor took her. And how long had she been with him? She didn't quite know what day it was but she figured it had to be almost two months now. And her mind had never put two and two together? Of course, her main concern had been staying alive for most of that time and that had been rather distracting but...still. To just forget about it completely? How the fuck could she do that?

Finally she found what she was looking for. Pregnancy tests. She put the little red basket with the store logo on it over one arm and picked up two boxes at random. Take off cap, urinate on the absorbent end of the stick and wait at least one minute before reading the results. Easy peasey. Even a ninny like her could manage that.

It wasn't that she didn't believe Dr. Ahmed. His test results had come back and he'd told her what he knew to be true. Test results usually didn't lie but...what if there had been some mistake? What if the lab techs goofed and she was worrying over nothing? What if she could get lucky just one more time?

_You're fucking stupid. You realize that, don't you? Nothing but an empty-headed, doe-eyed moron. How could you just forget? **How?**_

Of course, there was the missed periods to back up the results...but she'd missed periods before. And hadn't she read somewhere years ago that a missed cycle could be the result of sickness or great levels of stress? And she had definitely been under stress, lots of it, _tons_ of it, in fact. So there was a chance, wasn't there? There was still a chance.

Livia picked up a box with pink and white packaging and little yellow flowers on the front of it. In bold letters it boasted ninety-nine percent accuracy and she put it in her basket, thinking it would do just as well as the others. Then she grabbed another just in case the first was faulty; looking for anything to keep that hope alive now. She made her way to the register where she also picked up a twenty ounce Sprunk, thinking it might help settle her nervous stomach.

She shifted impatiently front foot to foot, occasionally glancing at the big double doors to her right. If Trevor were to come in now and look in her basket she would have some pretty heavy fucking explaining to do.

In the back of her mind she heard his voice just as clearly as she had on that first day, _Don't lie to me, Livia. I fucking_ hate _liars._

And what would he say if he found out what she was hiding from him now? Oh God help her, what would he _do_? The possibilities seemed endless...and every one of them filled her with abject terror. She had no idea how any man might react to such news and Trevor wasn't just any man, was he? Nothing about him was certain.

Glancing over at the door again, Livia tried to pull herself together. She was sweating heavily, her nose was throbbing and still felt like it was three sizes too big for her face, and she was on the verge of having a panic attack right here in line behind some old black lady with a crazy leopard print blouse on. She didn't have time to fall apart or give in to panic. She had to play it cool. She had to give no one the faintest idea that anything at all was amiss.

_Because your miserable fucking life might depend on it._

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Livia looked down at the test strip and felt like screaming. This was the second test. _The second one_. No doubt about it now. There hadn't been a mistake, nobody had goofed.

She was pregnant.

She turned away from the counter and barely made it to the toilet before she vomited up her Sprunk and the handful of crackers she'd managed to choke down an hour ago. She heaved again and again long after her stomach was empty; causing a rending pain deep in her ribs that had her nearly crying by the time she was through.

Livia sat back to wipe her mouth after she was done and then came the knock on the door; giving her no time to rest, no time to try and regain some small measure of composure.

"Hey, darlin', you fall in?"

Terror clawed through her guts and suddenly she couldn't breathe again; sending her into full-blown panic mode. Livia jolted back up onto her knees and fell forward when her pants leg slipped a little on the tile floor. Her chest thumped loudly against the cabinet doors and she swiped at the test strip with both of her shaking hands; only managing to knock it into the sink where the hard plastic strip clattered noisily against porcelain.

"B-be right out!" she called back, her voice sounding strange and totally unlike her as she clambered up onto her feet with a little screamy sound reminiscent of a dying cat. Then something in her stupid, treacherous brain made her say, " _Don't come in here_!"

As if that would stop him; as if _anything_ could stop him if that's what he wanted.

"What's going on in there?" Trevor asked, sounding worried and angry at the same time. "What the fuck are you doing, Livia?!"

"Nothing!" she nearly shrieked back at him, finally snatching up the test strip and tossing it into the toilet bowl that had yet to fill back up completely. Livia reached for the handle and frantically tried to flush it again and again but then the door was opening and Trevor was stepping in. He just popped open the door with one shoulder before she could say another word; the shitty little thumb bolt lock no match for two hundred pounds of pissed off psychopath.

She turned to see him standing there and still tried to flush the toilet over and over again; working that little handle for all it was worth. Huge tears rolled down her face as she lost all semblance of calm and finally screamed at him, " _GO AWAY!!!_ "

He came forward and grabbed her arm away from the toilet just as the tank quit filling and he got a good look at what was floating there in the water. He stood stock still for a long moment as Livia sobbed and covered her face with her free hand; breaking down completely now. She'd kept it together for as long as she could and now the dam had burst; releasing all the fear and despair that had been festering inside of her like a rancid wound since that morning. She was finally at the end of her endurance and she cried harder than she could ever remember doing so before; her sobs so loud in the small space that she could feel them rattling the air around her.

Trevor's hand was still holding her forearm in a tight - nearly bruising - grip but she could barely feel it at all. She just screamed and cried like a lunatic who hadn't been dosed heavily enough; her stomach clenching like a fist and almost causing her to throw up a second time. It took her a long moment to come back to herself, to reel it all back in a bit, and draw enough air to breathe again. When she finally choked down her last hysterical sob, she looked up to see Trevor staring back at her with a strange, almost frightened look in his dark eyes.

"Liv..." His voice broke and he tried again, "Livia, honey..." He swallowed hard and the hope on his face was more than she could bear, "Is that what I think it is?"

She tried to pull her arm out of his grip yet again but he was too strong, holding on with what seemed to be very little effort. "Yes!" she half-moaned, half-screamed at him. "Of course it is!" Again she tried to pull away but he still wouldn't release her. "Let me _go_!"

Trevor's voice firmed a little and his grip tightened even further, "Not until you calm the fuck down and talk to me."

"Goddamn you, I don't want to talk!" she snapped. "Get your fucking hands off of me, Trevor!"

Suddenly he was pulling her closer, pulling her into a crushing embrace, and no matter how she tried to fight it, his arms went around her and soon her burning face was pressed into the hard muscles of his chest. She could feel his hand smoothing down the rumpled mat of her hair and still she struggled against him; twisting and turning and howling in his arms. But he held on and little by little she eventually tired, the fight draining from her until she sagged against him and took the comfort his warm flesh offered.

He waited until she had more or less quieted and finally said, "Well...I'll be fucked. I guess that explains why you've been acting so weird today."

Livia sniffled and drew back a little, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her shirt and afraid to bring her eyes any higher than the FUCK COPS tattoo on his abdomen. "I thought maybe his test was wrong," she said, her voice a husky whisper that sounded just as hollow as she felt on the inside. "I was hoping there was a mistake or...or somebody fucked up."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Trevor asked, the hurt tone of his voice coming in quite clear. "Why'd you try to hide it from me?"

"I...I don't know," she said, sniffling and giving a sigh. "I was scared. I didn't know what you...what your reaction would be. I thought you might be mad."

Trevor looked dumbstruck, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open slightly, and it took him a second to find his voice again. "Mad?" he asked, giving a laugh as his lips slowly spread into a wide grin. "Why would I be mad? This is...this is _great_ , honeybunch. I'm happy. Fucking esctatic, actually." Suddenly his brow came together in a worried and somewhat hurt expression as he searched her eyes with his own, "Aren't you happy?"

Now it was her turn to swallow hard, "I - I...no, I don't..." Livia saw his mouth begin turning down at the ends and blurted, "I don't know!" She ran one hand through her messy hair and got stuck halfway through, yanking out some of it, "This is... it's not something I thought could ever happen for me. I tried for years with Paul and it was just one disappointment after another. I'd given up on that dream a long time ago. Besides..." She chanced another glance up at him, her face cramping into its own look of worry, "Thirty five is kinda old for having babies, don't you think?"

He scoffed at this and planted a wet kiss on her forehead, "Nonsense. Thirty five is fine. Thirty five is _perfect_. You'll be a great mom." His hands came up to cup her face and she saw the sparkle of joyous tears in his eyes, "And I'm gonna be a daddy."

Trevor seemed to like the taste of that word and said it again; savoring it like a rare wine. " _Daddy_. Some kid's gonna call me daddy...can you believe that shit? _Ho_ -ly fucking hell." He squished her face a little and gave a high-pitched giggle like an excited child, " _I_ can hardly believe it. We're gonna have a baby, darlin'. This is the best fucking day of my life!"

And he kissed her again and his smile was so big that Livia found herself trying to answer it, wanting to share in his joy, but she just couldn't. She could give him no more than the smallest wisp of a smile, barely managing to hide the fear that churned hopelessly in her heart.


End file.
